Archive of Our Own ^beta

For as long as Tooru can recall, the annual Hunt has always fallen on the first full moon of the harvest season and tonight is no exception.

It’s a rather clear evening. The stars are twinkling. The air is ripe. There isn’t a cloud to be seen. And the crisp autumn breeze carries the perfect amount of chill.

By the time he’s finished the pre-Hunt rituals — cleansed himself twice with fresh cream and rose water, rubbed essential oils into his skin, and bid his family bye for the remainder of the week — the moon has nearly completed its ascent into the sky. It is moments away from reaching its pinnacle and Tooru can already feel the effects of its luminescence coursing through his body.

He shivers as the pale light gently kisses his face and draws his cloak tighter around himself, toes curling in the damp grass as he pads across the field, towards the thick white line that demarcates the point of retreat.

Despite the evening chill, his cheeks are flushed and his body feels as though it is burning. He has to concentrate greatly to continue placing one foot in front of the other, hands clasped dangerously tight around a copper flask of sweet plum wine to ensure he doesn’t spill a single precious drop.

The soft blades tickle his bare feet, tendrils of pleasure traveling up his spine, and he draws a steadying breath, the onset of his upcoming heat causing his head to spin.

The insides of his thighs are soaked.

Streams of sticky slick trailing down the soft pale skin, mixing with the varying scents he’d bathed in to create a potently cloying fragrance that is as self-intoxicating as it is alluring and he bites down on his bottom lip in hope that the scintilla of pain will keep him upright for just a bit more.

It’s a pointless endeavor, however, given that his mind continues to wander back to the subject of his agony. Namely, Hajime and how handsome his best friend had looked when he had come to bid Tooru goodbye before departing outside of the walls with the rest of the pack at sunrise.

The thought of the other causes another stream of slick to leak out of Tooru. Travel down the length of his thigh and he whimpers under his breath as he clenches his legs tighter together, faltering at the shift in his center of gravity.

He can’t wait for Hajime to hold him down. To thoroughly ravish him from the inside out and claim him in every possible way to man. Love him and love him and love him some more, until Tooru can’t discern where he starts and where he ends. Bonded together by the grace of fate, of circumstance and chance. His Hajime so riveting, so—

The other omegas afford looks of varying emotions as he approaches. Some curious, some haughty, all in solidarity of his plight, given that they are also experiencing the spiraling effects of the full moon. Though, Tooru notes as an afterthought, none of their heats have progressed to the level of his own. Nor are any of them exuding a scent as potent as he is. One that suggests that he already has his heart set on a specific alpha. That his affections are wholeheartedly returned.

That in all but ritual, he and Hajime are already mated.

The thought causes his cunt to throb and he quickly pulls himself away. Turns to appreciate the work that has gone into preparing for the Hunt to avoid succumbing to a full-heat.

As has been the case in years past, the decor is absolutely breathtaking. Glass jars filled with fluttering fireflies hanging from the trees, bathing the colorful autumn foliage in brilliant pale hues of pink and white and blue. Small lanterns sculpted from fresh clay strung between the branches and woven through the bushes. Tall bamboo lamps, some nearly twice Tooru’s height, placed at ten-foot increments around the perimeter of the field to ensure adequate mood lighting.

It is a rather romantic event, after all.

Though, he supposes, it will all be useless once he retreats into the woods. Calls upon instinct and the moon to guide him as he paves a sweet trail for Hajime to follow. To track and tail and hold Tooru tight in those strong muscular arms that haunt the omega’s dreams.

There is a large pile of kindling and freshly chopped firewood stacked a few hundred yards away and Tooru stares at it, transfixed, as he finally inches forward to take his place between two other omegas wearing red homemade cloaks similar to his own.

Every one of the omegas’ cloaks is made of fabric indicative of their family’s status, as well as that of their alpha if they have already been vested; Tooru is pleased to see that his appears to be one of the more lavish ones.

The fabric is thick and soft, woven from wool that Hajime personally sheared from one of  the Iwaizumis’ sheep, and the color is gorgeous blood red. It clasps at the throat with a glistening sapphire brooch, one of Hajime’s many courting gifts, has a lovely picot edge, and, most importantly, is long enough fall past his ankles.

Some of the other omegas — the ones that come from less fortunate families or weren’t lucky enough to have been vested by a well-off alpha — have had to make do with communal cloaks, spun and sewn from recycled material of previous Hunts. They, themselves, will have to turn over any salvageable fabric after the night is over and, effectively, lose all momento of their bonding night.

Pitiful.

The communal cloaks are distressing to look at. The omega to Tooru’s left is wearing one. It’s frayed at the edges, barely reaches the tops of his knees. And it’s tied off with a modest length of twine that nobody even bothered to feed through the hood’s casing, a stark contrast to the thick satin ribbon hooked between two large gold embellishments that is tied under Tooru’s throat.

It’s humiliating to look at. Tooru can’t imagine donning it himself.

He continues to vainly compare his cloak to the others’ in an attempt to keep his thoughts from straying back to Hajime, mouth curving into a pleased smile when he realizes he might be wearing the nicest one.

But there isn’t any surprise there; his alpha had spared no expense when it came to courtship rituals, adamant that Tooru only receive the best. Because Tooru deserves the best; that much is true

The weight of his stare causes the ugly communal cloaked omega to shiver. He turns to return the look, only to be greeted by an arched brow.

Tooru caresses the well-finished edge of his own cloak pridefully. Makes sure to draw the other’s attention to the neatly looped gold thread before pulling his lips back to reveal his sharp incisors. The other omega quickly drops his gaze. Pulls the ends of his own cloak tighter around his body, but it’s futile; there isn’t a universe in existence where that much fabric would be enough to offer even a shriveled facade of decency.

His haughty observations are interrupted when the other loudly gasps and Tooru follow the omega’s line of gaze, eyes quickly settling at his own feet.

A field of flowers has bloomed beneath them, stems popping out of the ground at mach-speed, petals already unfurled, smooth and full and long.

He curses under his breath as his magic continues run haywire, fighting against Tooru’s control in a manner he hasn’t experienced since he sprouted his first flower at the tender age of four.

And though the situation is less than ideal, he has to admit it makes sense.

Despite the lengthy hours of study. The many days of restraint drills and mana drain, he still has more to learn. A thousand and one yards to walk. And many years ahead of him.

His magic tends to take on a personality of its own whenever he expresses intense emotion and Tooru doesn’t believe he’s ever been this excited.

He watches as a large daisy sprouts between his big and second toes, tickling the delicate skin as it lazily unfurls. Another follows and then another and soon enough the other omegas are jumping back in shock as a field of flowers flourishes widely around them.

“That’s a witch.”

The murmurs begin slowly and Tooru returns to caressing the edge of his cloak, tries to appear nonchalant. The rest of the group is far enough for him to feign ignorance. To continue to appear as though they are beneath him, that he can’t hear the whispers. Because the alternate has never offered anything but hurt in the past.

“They let a witch in here?”

“Apparently they’re allowed to participate as long as they pass their exams.”

“He’s still an omega, you know.”

“Well, I feel sorry for the alpha who gets him. Imagine having a mate who could turn you into a toad.”

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. See that cloak? He’s being courted by—”

The gossip is cut short by the echo of an explosion in the near distance.

All bodies turn towards the woods. A war-drum is being passionately beat, the reverberating rhythm echoing through the woods. It is the sound of a victory song. An indication that the alphas have successfully returned from their first hunt as the new generation of warriors.

And from the sound of their excited howls, they are aching to be rewarded.

There’s an eerie rustle at the edge of the woods and the group’s attention immediately snaps to the dark foliage just as a large wolf with shiny jet-black fur emerges from its depths.

Even on all fours, it stands taller than most of the village’s men. Its coat is matted with barberry thorns, its eyes gleaming the unsettling glow of a predator.

Its long muzzle is coated in thick blood.

Slowly, more wolves begin to appear. Creep out from behind the thick trees, moving with an almost ghostlike silence, unnoticeable to the untrained eye.

The wolves flank their pack leader on all sides and the omegas begin to titter excitedly as they stare back at the eligible alpha wolves with overt unabashed desire.

The combined effect of the alphas’ powerful presence, the omegas’ impending heats, creates an overwhelmingly frenzied atmosphere and Tooru fares no better.

He presses his knees together as the scent of approximately fifty pre-rut alphas assaults his senses at once. His head is spinning, his breath shallow, and he quickly scans the pack, eyes glazing over matted fur and bloodied ears until they lock onto a wolf positioned dead center, inconspicuous to everyone but himself.

Hajime stands slightly shorter than the rest of the wolves. However, his bulk makes up for his lack of height. His fur is a lovely reddish-brown, fluffy and soft, his paws powerful and large, able to cover the length of the visible field in three long strides, and he carries himself with a regal poise that rivals that of the pack leader.

He is absolutely breathtaking.

Tooru swallows before a soft whine claws its way out of his throat, mouth watering at sight of Hajime’s wolf form. His eyes rove over his best friend’s filthy muzzle, caked in dirt and blood from the ceremonial hunt meant to welcome the young wolves into the warrior ranks.

The alpha immediately senses his gaze. Turns his head to stare back, his usually piercing green eyes glowing bright amber in the moonlight. They are the eyes of a famished predator. A beast eager to hunt.

His lips pull back to reveal large fangs, his teeth coated in blood, as though searching for approval, and he gives Tooru a wolfish grin.

The omega in him immediately purrs at the attention and he returns the smile with a toothy one of his own, biting back a laugh as Hajime unconsciously wags his bushy tail, the action so out of place on such a menacing form.

By now, the last of the wolves have exited the forest, protectively surround their leader from all sides. The drum beat shifts and they split down the center to form a guarded path for three young alphas approaching from behind. A large elk, one of the spoils from the ceremonial hunt, is lifted onto their shoulders, and a fourth alpha brings up the rear, a large unlit torch between her hands.

The wolves yap excitedly as the girl passes, fluffy paws pounding eagerly against the ripe earth, kicking up dirt with every stomp. She’s chanting something in the language of their ancestors and proudly raises the torch above her head to concentrate the moon’s energy into a singular source as she draws close.

Slowly but surely, the ground beneath their feet begins to quake. The girl’s voice rises in pitch and Tooru squeals alongside the others as the moon finally reaches its apex. A piercing flash of silver light shoots across the sky, blasts straight through the stratosphere, and alights the torch. 

The young alpha wastes no time pressing it into the stack of firewood and kindling, stepping back as a tall wall of flames combusts before their very eyes.

Tooru holds his breath as the wolves join in a synchronized celebratory howl, the chorus reverberating long and shrill through the entirety of the village, as he begins to slip further into his preheat. His heart is racing, his legs like jelly, and he can no longer hold back the slick dripping from his throbbing cunt, clenching and pulsing and so, so desperate to be filled with an alpha’s knot.

He can’t see much of what is happening behind the fire; its flames are thick and opaque and rise high into the starry sky. But he knows from word-of-mouth, from the stilted giggles and hushed conversations at his family’s apothecary, that the elk is about to be sacrificed to the heat and that the wolves will be next.

The pack leader emerges first, no longer a beast, but a man — their village chief.

The burly woman holds up her palms to calm the excited omegas, a contained smile playing on her lips as she cups her hands together. She tilts the makeshift bowl back towards her mouth, the gesture a gentle reminder for them to take a sip of their wine.

Tooru drinks sparingly, the thick syrupy liquor generously coating the inside of his throat. A thin layer of sweat is starting to form on his skin, prickling atop his forehead and the insides of his joints, and he watches mesmerized as the wolves take turns leaping through the crackling flames.

Each wolf materializes on the other side of the bonfire in their human form, bare as the day they were born and devoid of any filth they may have picked up while hunting. They’re handed a thick pair of black trousers, the females an additional corset, and the omegas drink to every sacrifice. Pay their respects to the alpha who just swore their life to protect the village, its walls, and the residents within.

It is a binding contract. One they will take to their graves. And each will be handsomely rewarded with an omega of their own to ravish as they please.

Tooru nearly forgets how to breathe when it’s finally Hajime’s turn to jump through the flames. His best friend emerges with a sweet boyish grin, the one that always makes Tooru’s heart lurch just a bit too dangerously, dark hair flopping endearingly into his forest green eyes. His thick muscles bulge and twist under his smooth, sun-kissed skin. Carry a soft sheen, courtesy of the heat.

He looks absolutely ravishing backdropped by the radiance of the stars.

Whispers interspersed with lilted whimpers of poorly concealed lust start to drift down the line of omegas, everyone watching as Hajime accepts the trousers that are roughly shoved at him. The muscles in his back flex, corded and firm, the perfect canvas to be marked and scratched, with every move.

While he had been for want of attention as a wolf, undermined by the bigger, more intimidating ones, he’s managed to garner the attention of more than half the omegas now, all desperately searching for clues to determine whether he’s already been vested.

Tooru draws a shaky breath when Hajime glances in his direction, winking mischievously as he guides the trousers over his muscular legs.

The close members of his pack slap him on the back. Jeer raucously at the exchange and turn to give Tooru suggestive once-overs, hooting and cackling amongst themselves. More than one boisterous alpha murmurs something to Hajime that causes the tips of his ears to flush bright red, the color slowly spreading to his cheeks, down the length of his throat, and that’s when Tooru realizes that Hajime has been bragging.

He quickly diverts his attention to his fellow omegas, a dangerous thrill of excitement and pride coursing through his veins, only to be amplified as he surveys the group.

It’s obvious that the alpha sense of camaraderie doesn’t extend to the omegas. Many who were inadvertently taken by Hajime’s rugged charm turn to glare at Tooru, overt jealousy and annoyance that he has already been spoken for burning stark in their eyes.

Tooru thrives on the jealous looks, however. Feels a sudden pulse of rambunctious energy burst through his veins as he lifts his chin. Realizes that, once again, he has managed to attain what the others can only dream of.

They can only make snide remarks about his magic. Sneer cynically at his extravagant cloak and hurl offhanded comments about how they wouldn’t dare wear something so ostentatious. But at the end of the day, Hajime has already made one thing clear: Tooru deserves the best and will be given such just as well.

Envy has never been a good look on anyone.

He smirks proudly as he locks eyes with Hajime and swallows more than half his wine, eager to honor soon-to-be mate’s sacrifice.

The last wolf hops through the fire a few minutes later and the alphas are instructed to line up facing the omegas as the bonfire self-extinguishes. Watch them consume whatever is left in their flasks.

Hajime shoves one of his pack-mates away, a tall and lanky boy Tooru has seen him roaming around the village with a handful of times, so he can stand in front of Tooru. His scent already reeks of unrestrained arousal and Tooru swallows. Turns his head and pointedly refuses to look at his best friend, aware of the fact that he’ll drop to his knees and present if he so much as exchanges a glance with the other.

The village chief gathers some of the charred ash into a tightly woven basket which she hands to the omega standing closest to her. The omega, a petite girl with sunshine yellow hair and a medium length cloak, scoops up some ash and drags her palm down the face of the small ginger alpha standing in front of her before passing the basket to her neighbor.

It begins to make its way down the line surely and steadily, all of the omegas following suit. Tooru counts off the pairs, brows furrowing when he realizes that he and Hajime are one off and while there aren’t any binding rules, any decrees that specify that the alphas can only hunt the omega they are marked by, he doesn’t want to take any chances. He only has eyes for one. Only wants to touch his alpha tonight. No else exists.

Not for him.

Thankfully, Hajime notices the offset as well and makes quick work of grabbing his friend by the shoulder. Roughly swapping places just as the basket nears.

The other alpha snickers in amusement, the sound evolving to raucous laughter when Hajime kicks him in the shin, before closing his eyes and allowing the omega in the communal cloak to warily daub his face before passing the basket over.

Tooru swallows thickly as he takes it into his hands, the dried rattan rough against his skin. His hand trembles as he gathers up some of the soft ash. Revels in the way it falls like fine sand between his fingers, light and airy and just the slightest bit warm from the fire, before curling his fingers down against his palm to thoroughly coat his hand.

There’s a thick, nervous lump in his throat that he tries to swallow back to no avail as he finally looks at Hajime. Finds himself drowning in those piercing yet playful eyes as he drags his hand down the left side of the alpha’s face, painting a dark gray streak in its wake. He repeats the ritual on the right side and just as he’s neared the other’s jaw, Hajime’s hand shoots out and wraps around his wrist.

Flowers immediately burst from the ground. Carve a fresh field around them, growing at a speed that mirrors the pace of Tooru’s heart, separating them from the rest of the pack. Them, just them.

Hajime leans in unperturbed. Nuzzles Tooru’s pulse point and gives the scent gland on the inside of his wrist a soft lick before gently kissing it.

His lips are hot. Light a fire against Tooru’s skin that would no doubt put the extinguished bonfire to shame from how it scorches down his nerves. Warms up each and every one of Tooru’s extremities, so much so that the omega feels faint.

He clenches his foot as he focuses on breathing, on Hajime’s fingers curled so possessively around his wrist, his callused fingertips and sharp nails digging deep into the soft folds of his scent gland, slowly coaxing Tooru’s scent to rise and the field to continue spreading.

Tooru whimpers in warning. Desperately tries to wrangle his magic, his wayward loopy heart, as he struggles to pull away, but Hajime remains steadfast. Tightens his grip and grins widely when a fresh stream of slick inadvertently gushes out of the omega at the show of strength. Perfumey and potent and so, so palpable.

He reciprocates by gently biting down on the scent gland, teeth pressing hard to leave a divot when he finally pulls away.

The indent is flagrant. Stark. And makes his silent proclamation all the more heed-worthy: this omega is his and his alone.

He’s behaving uncharacteristically at the moment, much to the disbelief of Tooru’s feeble heart. After all, Tooru’s always been the troublemaker of the pair. The charmer, the flirt, the one always insistent on getting his way, much to the other’s vexation.

Hajime is more rigid in his morals. More conservative. Resolute in his insistence that they properly bond before being intimate. Though, Tooru is now starting to suspect that that persistence may have stemmed more from fear of being caught by the village elders than any of the vague reasons Hajime has given him for denying a kiss — despite the nature of the Hunt, salacious behavior between unmated pairs is not encouraged and any alpha caught in a compromising position with an omega will be severely punished.

He’s clearly convinced himself that those rules no longer apply, given that they are already on the hunting grounds.

More slick bursts out of Tooru’s cunt at the realization, dribbles down his thigh in thick intoxicating streams.

The scent goes unnoticed by the surrounding alphas who all turn to look at Tooru. Grind their teeth and bite back snarls as his pheromones tease their inner beasts.

Tooru swallows under their lascivious stares. Shivers when Hajime issues a challenging snarl, eyes darkening with pure unadulterated lust as they give Tooru a truly indecent once over of his own.

The weight of his gaze is penetrating. Causes Tooru to squirm as if he’s been caught doing something bad. And he’s never been more grateful for the heavy cloak, its thick fabric shielding his modesty, the most intimate parts of his body. The places he only wishes for Hajime to lay eyes on. No one else.

The soaked panties may as well not even exist at this moment, given that they are doing nothing to quell the generous flow of slick. Tooru trembles as a chilly breeze passes over them. Causes the drying slick to cool and shock another wave of pleasure up his spine.

The omega standing next to him coughs surreptitiously and he jumps before snatching his wrist away from Hajime and shoving the basket at his neighbor. He turns back to glare at the alpha who only continues to leer happily. Leans forward and licks his lips. Drags his rough tongue slowly yet surely across his mouth and sniffs the air salaciously, deliberately releasing some pheromones of his own, the cloying smell enough to draw another inadvertent reaction from his omega.

Despite the embarrassment coursing through his body as he drops his chest, tries to lessen the weight of the fabric on his tender chest, Tooru can’t help the pleased grin that spreads over his face. He ducks his head, lips between his teeth so that his bangs and hood fall further over his face, shielding his burning cheeks from the other’s roaming eyes.

The basket finally makes its way to the end of the line and then back to the front. It’s tossed in the extinguished embers and self-immolates with a loud crack of finality and the omegas titter fervently amongst themselves. Attempt to stifle their excitement with bated breaths, their cloaks drawn tight around their bodies to no avail as the flames die down once more.

Thankfully, the alphas aren’t faring any better. The lust only grows in the air as they anxiously shuffle their feet. Growl lecherously, the sound carrying forward on the wispy breeze ruffling their hair.

The chief steps forward to address the omegas, smiling as a sense of expectant eagerness reverberates throughout the group, the sentiment exacerbated by the way the alpha respond with hooded looks, the cloying pheromones being steadily released into the air slowly driving their inner wolves mad.

They smack their lips and clench their fingers by their sides. Eye the eligible omegas as they discern who they’ll be tracking and it’s more than obvious that everyone is eager for the night to begin.

The older woman shushes the alphas as she spreads her hands. Presses the sides of her fingers together and presents her palms to the sky before addressing the omegas.

“Our people thank you for your noble sacrifice. Let it be known that it will not be for waste. Just as our warriors have given their bodies to defend our walls, you will be giving yours to tame the feral beast that rages inside of them. Each of you will be responsible for helping to maintain the peace within our walls and for that, your service and loyalty to the clan will never be forgotten.”

The omegas giggle at her words. Light chirping bell-like sounds that cause the alphas to squirm in place.

It’s obvious that none of them think that any part of this is a burden. While participating in the Hunt may have once been the duty of omegas past, it now serves as a right of passage. A long-standing part of their history. A formality prior to mating. And a tradition that the villagers enjoy partaking in. While the speech renders relatively useless in modern day, the theatrics are much appreciated.

Omegas like Tooru, the ones who have already been vested and received blessings from both sides of the family to mate, will be tracked by their promised alphas. They are only partaking in the event for tradition’s sake. To allow their alphas the carnal thrill of chasing their mates down and experience the exhilaration of being pursued themselves, just as their ancestors once did.

The others, those who are yet to find their partner, will be leaving their future in the hands of fate. Mate with the first alpha who manages to hold them down and give them a bite.

That is the entire purpose of the Hunt. To be taken and ravished and bruised from the inside out. All under the pretense of feigned-fear that is meant to satiate the alpha’s inner beast.

It is a way to succumb to the wolf within. Tap into the primeval instinct that continues to drive their clan forward and allows for them to conserve their heritage.

The war drums are being struck once again. Thump, thump, thump, the beat threatening and sinister. And when the chief speaks for the last time, her voice undertakes a dramatic yet grave tone. “Remember to not stray from the path unless you are prepared to succumb to the evils that lurk deep within these woods.”

The omegas giggle nervously once again, cheeks reddening at the implication, and Tooru chances a peek at Hajime who is watching with great amusement, despite his dilated pupils and shallow breaths. His sturdy frame is shuddering and his claws are elongating and retracting on their own as he desperately attempts to keep his instincts in check. Contain the beast inside of him, the one that is snarling and howling, demanding he grab his best friend, his omega, his mate, and mount him right there.

Tooru shivers and licks his lips nervously. The lengths of his thighs are soaked and he can smell the pheromones that Hajime is generously exuding. Sandalwood and musk mixed with the softest undertone of pine. The most intoxicating fragrance in the world.

He whimpers. Bites back his breath as a burst of heat explodes from deep within his groin. Travels up his stomach, his spine, his throat before spreading through his entire body. Warm tendrils of need, of want, snaking to every extremity possible and he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer.

Instinct is demanding he bend over. Present. Allow Hajime to take him right there and now. Spread out on his back, his legs pulled apart as far as possible, his mate fucking him rough and dirty until he’s swollen with his pups.

Thankfully, he’s saved from the mortification of succumbing to his thoughts by the loud piercing ring of a gong, the sound signaling the omegas to begin their retreat. He turns and follows the others into the woods on wobbly legs, blood red cloaks flapping behind them. Tantalizing and enticing, the perfect way to rile up the hunters and cause them to raucously hoot and jeer with lustful want.

He can feel the heavy wight of Hajime’s gaze on his shoulders as he hobbles away. Penetrating and calculating, as if the alpha is tracking his every move. And knowing Hajime, he most likely is.

Tooru’s foot slides on the damp grass, his thighs slipping against one another as he reaches the edge of the woods. Dirt is stuck to his soles and he turns to offer Hajime a final heated glance — one that he’s unsure will even reach the alpha, given how far away he is.

Nevertheless, he bats his lashes preciously before stepping into the dark foliage.

The omegas have been given a ten minute hand start and he wants to make the best of this time. Get as far away from the bonfire as possible and raze a trail for Hajime to follow. He’s heard from other omegas, from the whispers and giggles that pass from ear to ear at harvests and festivals, that the harder it is for an alpha to capture their omega, the more their inner beast’s blood boils, and the more passionate the mating portion of the ritual is.

Given that they’ve looked forward to this night ever since Hajime carried a panting, whimpering Tooru, in the throes of his first heat, home from where they had been collecting herbs on the outskirts of the village, he wants this experience to be memorable as possible.

He’s relieved to realize that the intensity of his preheat is lessening the further he draws from the pack and he manages to scurry through the silent woods, hopping over fallen branches, autumn leaves crunching under his feet. He ducks as a low hanging branch nearly scrapes his face and immediately falls forward onto his hands and knees.

There’s a soft whistling noise to his left and he turns to see a lavender stem burst out of the ground, the stalk growing unnaturally tall and its petals spreading outward as it proudly stretches towards the sky. Seconds later, another flower shoots out from between the fallen tree leaves behind him. Honeysuckle — its scent as sweet and potent as the one Tooru is emanating. Another whistle sings and then another and another, alternating stalks of lavender and honeysuckle encircling him to create an unnatural spring field against the colorful fall foliage and Tooru finds himself smiling softly in nostalgia.

When he was younger and couldn’t control his powers, he’d bloom flowers wherever he walked. Pave a beautiful trail, the species of flora dependent on his current mood.

It was how his family, with its long lineage of omega witches, came to realize his gift. Conclude that he’d eventually blossom into an extremely capable nature witch with the enviable powers to control plants, the elements, the Earth — all aspects of the natural world.

It is the most difficult gift to master, given it requires the ability to exert prowess over living beings, and despite the rigorous training he has already undergone, there is still so much for him to learn.

Needless to say, in the early days, when the nonstop lessons and constant chastising from his mother grew too overwhelming, he’d often escape into the woods. Climb a tree and camp out in the branches in an attempt to isolate himself from the others.

Hajime would always follow him, sometimes at the request of Tooru’s mother, but mostly of his own volition, using the trails of colorful flowers Tooru couldn’t help but sprout as a guide.

He’d often gather the flowers, picking a stem every few feet until he had a thick bouquet clenched in his small hands that he would present to Tooru when he finally found him.

It was an innocent gesture. An attempt at assuaging his upset friend and Tooru, who has always had a penchant for beautiful things, would eventually be goaded into coming down and allowing Hajime to comfort him.

Of course, there were also instances when Tooru would meticulously plan his retreat. Bring along a basket filled with food and set up a picnic at the base of a tree as he waited for Hajime to find him.

They’d split bread and cheese and freshly mulled apple cider. Eventually begin scavenging for tart berries and sour grass and mushrooms that Tooru deemed safe to eat. And once their stomachs were stuffed to the points of bursting, Tooru would weave jewelry from the flowers — a trick he’d learned from his sister.

He’d hum the songs his grandmother had taught him under his breath as Hajime handed him stem after and stem and once his creation was finished, he’d place it on the alpha’s head, around his neck, his ankle, his wrist.

Sometimes, he’d even dare to wrap a single flower around Hajime’s fourth finger, the symbol of a mated alpha in the villages far North. Or at least that was what his grandmother had told him in passing, the long sleeves of her dress rolled up to her elbows as she kneaded dough between her weathered hands. Recalled tales of her youth and follies and the different methods of ensuring promise, loyalty, and commitment above all.

As he grew older and garnered more control of his magic, Tooru would be able to wave a hand to oblige the flowers to heed his bidding. He’d sprout them in Hajime’s hair. Request they twine around his biceps, his stomach, his thighs. And he’d laugh when the alpha faux glared at him, the dainty stems looking so out of his place on the threatening and muscular stature that he’d slowly grown into, immediately calling the other’s bluff.

Now that he thinks about it, however; this may be the first time he’s ventured into the woods completely alone. He’s long split from the rest of the omega pack, each scurrying away in opposite directions to ensure their tailing alphas don’t change their minds.

It definitely is, he realizes as he takes a moment to study his surroundings. Even before they knew what mating was, Hajime was always around in some capacity. By Tooru’s side, or trailing a few hundred feet away. A comforting presence with the self-imposed responsibility to keep the omega safe and out of trouble. And while Tooru wouldn’t delve too deep when he was a pup, afraid of the darkness and the beings that lurked within, he’s slowly grown more accustomed to the unknown.

Most of the trips he’s made over the last few years have been to collect the ingredients for the potions and spells his family keeps stocked in their apothecary. Beetle eyes and newt tongues. Frosted willow bark. Foxglove blossoms and powdered bat wings.

No two excursions have ever been the same with some ingredients needing to be harvested at the exact second of the solstice, while others need resting periods and charms to coax them from their hiding spots. And while the woods are relatively familiar to the pair, more than a few close run-ins have jaded Hajime enough to always don his wolf form as he accompanies Tooru into the shadows. Steady and vigilant, regardless of how tired he is after work, his heightened senses and threatening form doing well to keep danger at bay.

A chorus of loud howls reverberates in the distance, the shrill sound cutting through the silence of the woods. Tooru feels his blood run cold, heartbeat thundering in his ears ears as the alphas howl once more, this time adding in loud snaps and juvenile whoops, their voices growing increasingly frenzied and erratic as they’re finally released into the woods.

Tooru curses under his breath as he realizes just how much time he’s wasted reminiscing the past and with a bit of struggle manages to push himself to his feet, cunt throbbing in admission to the alphas’ hunting calls. He brushes off his knees and hisses as another wave of slick gushes out of him, pools at his heel and dampens the soil, before taking off in a haphazard direction, a train of flowers trailing after him.

Now that the alphas are in closer vicinity, operating with free reign, he retreats with more purpose. Acknowledges the need to exercise more caution and put as much distance between himself and the pack as possible.

Most of the alphas will respect the unspoken rules of the Hunt. Won’t hunt vested omegas, ones that don’t belong to them. But he’s heard more than a few rumors of those who treat the ritual like their ancestors once did. Will claim the first omega they come across, more for the purpose of creating chaos than anything else, and he would rather not be caught in the cross-fire.

Flowers are sprouting more quickly now. Creating a sweet path that will lead Hajime directly to him and he briefly recalls another story his grandmother would tell him about a naive and foolish omega who strayed far from the forest path to gather flowers over cups of rich hot cocoa. The tale ended with the girl being gobbled up by a ravenous wolf with unsavory intentions and despite himself, Tooru snorts at the irony of his situation and how desperate he is for his own alpha to ravage him raw. 

He eventually reaches a fork in the path, the left leading him deeper into the woods while the sound of running water ricocheting off boulders echoes from the right. The stream flows downhill towards a stone bridge, one that he’s crossed on numerous occasions while visiting his grandmother, Hajime at his side.

He opts for familiarity. Quickly steps to the right, cloak cinched tightly around his feverish body as he scurries down the dusty path.

His thoughts float back to the fairytale and he finds himself comparing himself to the stupid omega. How her propensity for not following the rules, her penchant for beautiful things, ended unfortunately and how he’s doing the exact opposite. Leaving a train of flowers in his wake for Hajime to follow. Tempting and enticing and seductive. A personal challenge to the wolf he desperately wants to be devoured by.

The fog slowly thickens as he follows the current, the chill of the damp bank a welcomed relief against his flushed skin. The sound of moving water, its crisp and clean scent, tickles his senses, and he pauses to take a breath of fresh air.

What he wouldn’t give for a lantern.

The moon is doing its best to illuminate the surrounding area, but the light isn’t enough to penetrate the heavy fog cloak shrouding him on all sides. Still, he supposes that he’s being bestowed a blessing in disguise — heat cycles are deeply tied to the strength of the full moon. The stronger the direct light, the further he’ll delve into a complete heat and the more at risk he’ll be.

An elated howl sounds nearby, subsequently followed by a sharp cry, high-pitched and needy. Seconds later, he hears a loud snarl and a heavy thud before the sound of an omega being knotted and claimed resonates through the woods, designating the first bonded pair of the night.

The scent of a content omega and heavy arousal fills his nostrils. Muted yet sweet, mixed with the heady, masculine scent of fresh petrichor, the obscene sound of rough and dirty fucking, of skin slapping against skin.

Tooru feels his cheeks heat, a mournful whimper falling from his lips as his cunt clenches. And he quickly continues on his way before the poorly contained lust overtakes him as well.

His eyes light up as they fall upon a familiar weeping willow. The same one he and Hajime lunched under just a week ago, bright purple asters crowding its base.

The roots are useful for brewing medicine certain to break the toughest of fevers and the petals to form love talismans. They look rather menacing in the dark, however, bending and swaying to beat of the wind, their long stems rustling against one another.

He can hear loud animalistic grunts. The sound of alphas taking their omegas, claiming them over and over and over again. Pleasuring them beyond belief and he swallows. Presses his damp thighs together in an attempt to stay in control.

It’s hopeless, however; the realization strikes him like a thunderstorm just as the overarching smell of fresh sandalwood and pine does. Familiar and primal and musky and aroused.

Hajime is close by.

A ecstatic thrill of joy courses up his spine and his body roars at him to fall over and present, but he somehow manages to take a few shaky steps forward.

The scent grows more potent and his endeavor remains pointless. The sticky slick is causing his thighs to slide against one another, rendering his movement all the more difficult. His cloak catches on the thorny brush lining the path; the sound of feral mating has become more prevalent with each passing second and he gasps when he feels a heavy weight slam into his back.

Hajime snarls under his breath, but manages to catch Tooru. Saves him from toppling over by wrapping his arms around his waist, chest heaving from where it’s plastered against his back.

His hands are trembling and he groans voraciously as he noses alongside the back of the omega’s neck, fingers curling into Tooru’s belly.

Tooru breathes deeply. Tries to focus on keeping his heartbeat still. But he knew this would happen. Has dreamt of it for seasons passed. And his pussy drools when Hajime finally speaks, his voice deeper and huskier than Tooru ever remembers hearing it.

“Finally caught you, gorgeous. Didn’t know you could run that fast.”

He gently lifts the left side of Tooru’s hood. Pushes it back. Just enough for his hot breath to graze the omega’s ear, his hands roving, more familiar in their touch than they’ve ever been.

Tooru gasps harshly. Tilts his head to the side as Hajime nuzzles his throat, drags his rough tongue up the side of his jaw as his callused fingertips graze over the the expanse of his soft skin. Pull across his flat stomach, down his arms, raising goosebumps in their wake.

He’s puffing loudly, breath hot behind the omega’s ear, teeth gnashing as he tries to keep himself underway. But Tooru can feel the alpha’s cock. Hard and firm, nestled up against the slope of his ass.

He gasps when Hajime turns him around unceremoniously, right hand curling in Tooru’s soft hair, thumb caressing his cheek before taking a step forward, left arm curved tight his waist.

Tooru takes one back in turn. Allows the alpha to do it again, then again, and again. All until he’s crowded up against the willow’s trunk, coarse bark prickly against his sensitive skin.

Hajime hasn’t progressed into a full rut yet. His eyes are dilated, but haven’t taken on the wolf’s lovely honey glow. He’s releasing his pheromones in a controlled manner and despite his continuously clenching fingers, his rumbling chest, he’s alert and well-aware of his actions.

Tooru wishes he could say the same. Just a single whiff of the alpha’s scent has every part of his body yearning for more. And while part of the reason may lie in the fact that they’re surrounded by wails and cries of need and lust and so much desire, there’s a part of him that knows that he’s at his limit.

A gentle swirling sound whirls above them, the tinkle of fairy bells at Yule, and both boys look up to see a bouquet of long rounded leaves dropping from the branch above their heads, fat white berries glistening and stark amongst the crisp green leaves.

“What is this?” Hajime asks curiously, reaching up to thumb at a leaf. “I’ve never seen you bloom it before.”

“It’s mistletoe,” Tooru whispers in immediate recognition. Swallows the lump growing fat in his throat. His fingers straighten and curl over Hajime’s wrist until he can feel the alpha’s pulse running rampant under his skin, the thud as fervent as vicious as the magic coursing through the omega’s veins. “It means you’re supposed to kiss me.”

His eyes flutter and he gives a pleased sigh as Hajime complies without argument. Kisses under his eye, chapped lips grazing the soft skin fleetingly before moving over to the other eye. His hands haven’t stoped roaming; they desperately slide up and down Tooru’s bare arms, affirm a lot more need than the alpha is currently letting on, and when Hajime finally presses their mouths together, Tooru whines with absolute unperturbed want.

Hajime’s kissed him before. Just once. And to this very moment, Tooru’s impressed not only by the alpha’s stringent fortitude in denying the object of his affections, but also by himself, for managing to goad said alpha into breaking his resolve.

It happened in the Iwaizumi barn, on a day just like any other. Tooru had taken his teasing jokes, his flirting too far. Dragged his nails delicately along the back of Hajime’s neck, his pheromones rich and scent cloyingly sweet as he raised the small hairs on the pre-rutting alpha’s nape. Their sheer vicinity along with a few choice words, batted lashes and the stifling summer day, were all it took.

Hajime had dropped the bale of hay he was about to toss into the loft in a flash. Grabbed Tooru instead and growled, “You’re going to be the ever-loving death of me.”

He’d shoved the other back into the wall of bales waiting to be properly stored, gentlemanly demeanor rapidly disintegrating as he boxed Tooru in. Rendered him still with his hands held flush on either side of his head, a knot forming in his trousers as he blinked slowly at the shocked omega.

But even then, despite his heavy breathing and dilated eyes, his scent spiking with absolute arousal and his inner wolf howling to be released, he’d managed to exercise a great amount of self-control.

Once he’d realized what he was doing, he’d quickly released Tooru’s hands. Gently curled an arm around the small of the omega’s back, tenderly cupped his cheek with his free hand. And bestowed him with a kiss that was just as chaste, just as sweet, like the chirp of the baby chicks two doors down or the speckled little hare that came about begging for greens every fortnight.

This kiss is nothing like that.

Hajime’s mouth tastes like the mead he’s been consuming all day, heady and intoxicating. His scent raw and powerful, underscored by the ashy remnants of the fire. He pushes Tooru firmly against the willow’s trunk. Leaves no room for escape as he plasters them together from head to toe.

Scratchy, jagged bark digs into Tooru’s back and he whines as the alpha peppers hot kisses down the side of jaw, his throat, licking and nuzzling and scenting any bare skin he can reach before dragging the edges of his teeth over Tooru’s swollen scent glands.

They sway against one another, Hajime holding the omega up with a strong arm wrapped around his lower half, the other fisting the hair at his nape. He tugs Tooru’s head to the side, angles their mouths as he deepens the kiss, canines digging into Tooru’s tender lip, the omega clinging to his forearms for dear life.

Tooru’s head spins. His scent grows all the more pungent with each additional kiss the alpha gives him and he nearly creams himself as the other’s hands wander lower. Dip between the folds of his cloak and brush over bare skin, only to pull back in surprise.

“Wait,” Hajime starts, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. His eyes are pitch black, gorgeously dark like a cold winter night’s sky and Tooru swallows as he finds himself drowning in their depths. “Where are your clothes?”

Tooru grabs his hand. Guides it down his stomach, along his hip and over his pubic bone. Cups his palm over the back Hajime’s as he presses it tight between his legs, heart hammering in his throat at his own brazenness.

“You’re so clueless,” Tooru murmurs, voice pitching off into a whine as Hajime proceeds to hook his fingers in the fabric of the soaked panties, rough knuckles brushing against the outer lips of his cunt. “Even children know this.”

Hajime growls in annoyance. “Excuse me if I don’t spend my time undressing hapless omegas. I have more productive things to do.”

“Like chopping wood,” Tooru agrees sagely, hands sliding up over Hajime’s abs and along his shoulders to grasp at his thick biceps, beautifully sculpted from years of hard labor as a woodcutter.

The Iwaizumi family specializes in lumber and textiles. Supplies the villagers with whatever materials they may need to build and upscale their abodes, their business spreading far to some of the neighboring clans.

Each one of the family’s alphas is required to complete an apprenticeship with the more experienced woodcutters before entering the workforce as a partner.

It’s a tried and trusted method to help them get their hands dirty with the most grueling part of the job. To teach them about patience and respect and the value of hard-work. Ensure that the alphas do not take anything for granted, even their inheritance.

After all, the business will eventually go to the most worthy sibling, not the oldest, as is the case with most of the other businesses in the village. And given that they have all been placed on a leveled field, when the time comes, the sibling who has put in the most work, given the business the most love, will be the one to inherit it. 

It’s difficult work, but Tooru can’t argue with the approach, given the way Hajime’s physique has turned out. His mouth salivates as his eyes rove over every inch of chiseled muscle, hands wandering and tugging and groping, and he preens as he reminisces the jealous looks he received from the other omegas at the bonfire.

Hajime lets him do as he pleases, amused. His own hands stroke over Tooru’s warm skin lethargically, the one resting on his groin quirking in a way that causes Tooru to roll his head back with a happy sigh, before replying, “Or helping certain witches study so they could participate in the Hunt.”

Tooru grins. Leans forward and kisses the alpha’s throat, lips quirking when he feels the other’s pulse hasten. He peeks at Hajime through long lashes and flutters them coquettishly — the way the omegas at the bathhouse taught him to.

“Mm, I do recall you doing that. So, did your witch pass?”

Just like Hajime’s family, the Oikawas also have their own traditions. Given that omega witches are coveted and difficult to come by, most begin training from the minute they reveal an aptitude from magic. They’re dragged through the wringer, pushed to focus on their studies without an inch of room for distraction until they pass their exams. Which, resultantly, means that they are also not allowed to participate in the Hunt until they’ve completed their preliminary education. While most omegas choose to enter after their first full year of heat, Tooru’s had to make do without for an additional season.

“With flying colors. First attempt too,” Hajime says smugly, voice cutting short as Tooru thumbs over a hardened nipple. “I’m so proud of him.”

“Well, he had a lot of help,” Tooru replies. He beams when Hajime pulls him into another kiss, thoughts flashing back to the long hours they spent curled up next to one another at the back of the Oikawa family’s apothecary. Hajime almost always in his wolf form, wrapped around the exhausted omega to keep him warm as he poured over his tomes, murmuring under his breath as he tried to memorize spells and charms and potions and brews.

The alpha had picked up a bit of magic himself. Mostly easy stuff. Like how to brew a potion that could keep one awake for hours. Or how to grind the herbs for the soothing balms to cure Tooru’s constant searing headaches.

It was confidential information. The entire training regimen was. But Hajime was adamant and Tooru was convincing and together they’d dug their heels in hard enough that all parental parties had agreed that separating them was more trouble than it was worth. And besides, if things continued the way they were, Hajime would soon be a part of the family anyways. So—

“A very handsome wolf kept him company.”

“And that handsome wolf would do it again. Over and over, until the end of time,” Hajime replies, nipping at Tooru’s upper lip as his hands glide over his flat stomach once again, bringing with them the sticky residue of Tooru’s slick.

“You’re just happy you don’t have to wait another year,” Tooru murmurs, toes curling under the gentle slide of Hajime’s hands. Scouring and searching, fingers razing scalding trails in their wake, and he whimpers as they slide up the sides of his stomach. Hajime’s thumbs press down on his swollen nipples. Coax those sweet sounds from the omega’s mouth that the alpha swallows, drunk on Tooru’s taste.

The evening breeze is cool against Tooru’s skin. Exacerbates the lingering scent of his dry slick on Hajime’s fingers and he feels his knees quake under the intensity of the alpha’s gaze. How loving and devoted Hajime’s eyes are and how every nook and cranny of his existence, of his very being, has a memory of his mate tucked lovingly into a corner.

The willow he’s currently pressed against is the one they’ve split bread under for years. It’s the same willow Hajime broke his hand falling out of when he was seven. The same willow they’ve shed their clothes beneath every summer so they could splash around in the creek and the one that shielded Tooru during his first heat.

This willow has seen them grow, played witness to the thousands upon thousands of memories that they’ve formed in the eighteen years passed. And it will continue to do so for the decades to come.

“I’m a simple man, but I’d wait for you forever.”

It’s as if the surrounding foliage is in tune with the thrum of Tooru’s heart. For a moment, everything in the universe feels as though it’s come to a screeching halt. The leaves no longer whisper, the stems no longer sway. The billowing wind wanes out and Tooru blinks up at Hajime. Swallows. Once, then twice, before tugging the alpha forward and snarling, “I won’t. I want you now. Kiss me. Fuck me. Mate me. Just do it now.”

Hajime’s eyes darken at his unabashed demand. Specks of amber appear in his pupils as he starts to succumb to his primal side and he fists the hair at the base of Tooru’s neck. Jerks it back and seals their mouths together in the crudest of kisses, all tongue and saliva and debauched moans.

The petals of the weeping willow begin to burn brilliantly violet. Illuminate from the tips of the branches all the way to the trunk, painting Hajime’s face in a soft and muted glow that has Tooru’s breath catching in this throat.

The alpha becomes increasingly emboldened with his actions the more they kiss, his hands roaming and touching and tugging at every part of his mate with the parched thirst of a man lost at sea, a wolf who’s stumbled upon a feast.

It’s good, so fucking good. Hot and debauched and passionate and rough and yet, Tooru can’t help but want more.

Hajime is still in control. Hasn’t completely succumbed to the beast and while the rational part of his mind is screaming that this is enough. That they’ve waited a very long time and any reasonable omega would submit and present to their alpha without qualms, the part filled with mischief, the part that has a penchant for stirring up trouble wonders how much further he could push this event.

Tooru is famished. Desperate to be held down and knotted. He wants Hajime to devour him, ravenously breed him without any thought. To clear his mind of any romantic notions of gentle lovemaking — they’ll have plenty of time for that later.

Hajime isn’t over the brink yet. Hasn’t given way to the savage animal that Tooru is so aching to meet. To kiss, to ravish, to fuck until he’s sobbing for respite.

And so, despite logic howling at him to stop, to reconsider the consequences and the risk of it all, he nips at Hajime’s upper lip. Allows the alpha to push his tongue into his needy mouth, take Tooru as he pleases and lower his defenses, so much so that his hands are not longer holding Tooru steadfast, grip loosening with every passing second, and in three, two, one —

Hajime blinks in confusion as Tooru spins out of his arms and circles the trunk so that he’s hidden by its girth.

“Where are you going?” Hajime asks as he follows after his mate in a stupid daze, mouth swollen and a little indent of Tooru’s fangs embedded into his bottom lip.

“You’re going to have to be faster if you want to claim me, Hajime,” Tooru grins impishly as he makes for the creek. Hops onto one of the stones with the lithe ease of a gazelle and gives the alpha a little wave, his smile widening when the other groans in defeat.

“Are you serious?”

“You didn’t seriously think I was gonna just roll over and present, did you? That it was going to be that easy?”

He’s playing with fire and knows it. He can smell the carnal desire radiating off of Hajime. His annoyance at losing his prey after capturing it and he adds the last bit of fat to the flames by saying, “If I was an alpha, I would have already claimed my omega by now. Shame.”

Those words are the final nail in the coffin and he chortles loudly at Hajime’s responding growl. The way the alpha tries to follow him across the stone path, only to step back onto the bank with a curse when the stone immediately sinks under his weight.

“Tooru,” he calls threateningly, though he also knows it’s futile. Tooru’s already decided that he wants to continue being pursued and the he’s now faced with the equally terrible options of either swimming across the frigid creek or making his way down to the bridge a half mile away. And to make matters worse—

“This is why I never let you be the alpha,” Tooru taunts, hopping from foot to foot and referring to the game all of the village’s children play before they come to understand the true semantics of the Hunt.

A glorified game of hide-and-seek where the participants take turns hunting, Tooru had more often than not bullied Hajime into being the omega. The one chased down the cobblestone path weaving through the marketplace, down to their cabins, and out into the forest. Growling and snarling and shrieking about how he was going to catch Hajime. Claim him and make him do his bidding.

He laughs in delight as the memories come flooding back. How claiming had simply meant being the other’s slave for the remainder of the day back then. Heading to the other’s bid without complaint.

Hajime would be tasked with helping the omega with his chores. Piggybacking him home and buying him sweet lemon ice from the old hag that lived on the north edge of the village. He’d would have zero qualms returning the favor on the rare occasions where he managed to win, only to be scolded by all the adults for not being gentle with his more delicate playmate once they found out, much to Tooru’s delight.

The omega’s managed to dance his way across the river now and he immediately sprints into the dark foliage once his feet hit the soft, grassy bank.

Having tasted Hajime on his lips has satiated a good bit of the heat burning in his gut. Enough that flowers are no longer springing out of the ground of their own volition and he has enough energy to put some intent into his step.

The rest of the Hunt will be a challenge for Hajime, given the distance he’s managed to put between them. And he has no doubt that when he’s caught for the second time, when Hajime circles his waist once more, he’ll be taken within seconds.

Two howls sound off in tandem, followed by the piercing cries of omegas being claimed, and Tooru shivers as he ducks under another low hanging branch. Hops over a fallen tree-stump and maneuvers between haphazardly erected mushroom circles.

Baskets filled with colorful berries, icy wine, and silver coins line the edges of the fat spotted toadstools — offerings to the magical beings rumored to live deep within the woods. The ones with the power to grant any wish if adequately pleased.

Tooru has never been fortunate — or unfortunate, as his grandmother would say — enough to have run across one of the beings. According to the older woman, faeries are bastardously tricky beings. Witches tied to the very depths of the woods as punishment for not respecting the gift they were bestowed, using their magic for ill.

To atone for their sins, they are cursed to roam the woods for all of eternity, unable to drink or eat, and lure humans to their circles under the pretense of granting wishes so that they can trap someone to keep them company. The way she’s described them has always made Tooru quake with fear, Hajime even more, and they’ve both held steadfast in their promise to keep as far away from fae magic as possible.

Another howl sounds on the far end of the woods and Tooru narrowly misses stepping into a stray circle. His left hand automatically finds its place over his heart. Clutches his plush cloak as he pauses to catch his breath and gather his bearings.

To his left, he can hear tinkling bell-like laughter, to his right the unnerving sound of leaves being ground into a fine powder. And all of a sudden, it’s all too sudden, all too much.

The fear of being whisked away to be a faerie’s prisoner for all of eternity has thrown off his sense of direction and he looks from side to side, heart stuttering as he desperately tries to discern exactly where he is and where he’s supposed to go.

All of the trees look precisely the same and the overarching canopy of leaves renders navigation by stars useless. It would be a dauntingly precarious position to find himself in on a normal night, but at least Hajime is close by, and that realization alone is enough to quell his fear to some degree.

Three more howls sound in succession. This time, one of them is followed by the sound of panicked shrieking, a distressed, “No, no, no!” and Tooru winces at the despondent cries that come shortly after. One of his fellow omegas has likely been taken by the wrong alpha, is now tied to them for the rest of her life, and is mourning what could have been.

His sympathy is cut short by loud snap to his far left, his attention immediately drawing from the forlorn sobs echoing through the trees, his heart thrumming in excitement.

This is it. It’s all about to come to fruition. All of it. His alpha has finally caught him.

He turns over his shoulder. Brings the hood of his cloak up over the side of his face and coquettishly bats his lashes to entice—

—an alpha who isn’t Hajime.

“Hey there, Red,” the unknown alpha calls and Tooru immediately shrinks away, wary of the way the man’s lips curl up, eyes stark yellow to indicate that he’s already succumbed to his primal side. “Should you really be out here by yourself? The woods are a dangerous place. Especially for a pretty little thing like yourself.”

A defensive snarl claws its way out of Tooru’s throat and he cinches his cloak tightly around his body before taking a few steps back, teeth bared in warning.

The alpha remains unbothered. Leers lasciviously at Tooru and smirks at the infallible look of disgust he receives in return.

Tooru’s eyes dart around his surroundings, as he desperately begins to establish a method of escape. Running away would only stir up the alpha’s instincts, rouse the beast that exists to hunt. But staying put will also have dire consequences.

He takes a measured step to his right, eyes focused on the alpha as he raises his hands in front of his body, the way one tames a startled bear. The alpha only grins in return. Mimics Tooru with an exaggerated step of his own, brows raised in challenge.

After a second, bigger step is met with similar results, Tooru swallows nervously. There isn’t much choice left other than to flee and he keeps his eyes glued to the other as he tries to properly time his retreat.

The alpha tilts his head to the side, watches patiently before taking another step forward, and that’s Tooru’s cue.

He swerves to the right and takes off the fastest he’s ever run, lungs swelling in a wild frenzy as he desperately tries to put as much distance between himself and the rogue alpha as possible. Blood is pounding in his ears, his pulse hastening, and he feels himself break into a cold sweat as the alpha snarls loudly, fingers missing Tooru’s hood by less than a hair.

Thankfully, he’s more familiar with the intricacies of the woods than most, courtesy of the many hours he’s spent in its depths. Given nature and its whimsical ways, however, he’s learned to not expect day-to-day consistency when it comes to the specifics and tonight is no different. The added adrenaline of being pursued by an unwanted predator only adds to his dread as he continues to navigate the claustrophobic maze that is closing in on him from all sides.

He leaps over aged stumps, twisted roots, and lichen covered stones. Veers dangerously close to any faerie circles he spots, hoping that his grandmother’s tales are true and that the alpha’s heavy tread will cause him to topple over and become trapped within. Unfortunately, a quick glance over his shoulder reveals that his hopes are futile — the alpha is clearly acquainted with the lore given the wide space he’s affording the circles.

It feels as though he’s been running for hours when he finally spots a source of light shining bright a few hundred feet ahead. He breaks for it at a mad dash, hoping to garner more clarity, but just as he nears the cusp, his cloak catches on a stray mulberry bush, jerking him backwards.

He swears under his breath as he glances behind. Sees that the alpha has also tripped head-first over a fresh creeping vine less than a yard away.

The vine lifts its trunk like a viper posed to attack. Ruffles its leaves in lazy acknowledgment of the witch, before it dives. It wraps itself around the alpha’s ankles once, then twice. Squeezes tight, so much so that Tooru can already see the other losing circulation and with a bow of his head, he brushes his bangs off his face and continues on towards the light.

He reaches the edge of a clearing and comes to a sudden halt as he weighs his options. The alpha is snarling and growling as he slashes at the vine with his extended claws, each cut causing the stem to double its tendrils and halve its girth, and though the fight seems vicious, Tooru know that it will be over soon.

For now, however, he has a decision to make, and needs to make it fast.

On any other occasion, it would be best for him to cross the field. It’s wide and scant — no randomly placed trees or jutting bushes crowding it up, hazards for anyone trying to evade a feral alpha. However, the lack of vegetation will also allow for him to be hit by direct moonlight, enough to put the strongest of omegas into a full heat, far more worse than the one Hajime quelled.

Tooru bites his lip as he thinks. Neither alternative is particularly safe — he can risk the clearing. Hope that he makes it across before he devolves into a full heat and disappear into the other side of the forest, or he can go around. The latter would ensure protection from instinct, but would also take longer and he’d still risk being caught, thanks to the swirling branches, the ominous crannies, the twists and turns that seem to be appearing out of nowhere.

Another howl goes off on the opposite side of the clearing and just as it’s waning out, he hears a triumphant hiss behind him. The alpha has managed to slash through all but one root of the vine, a thick cut stem that is fighting for its life. The scent he’s emanating is menacing. Reeks of fury and blood-lust and that’s all Tooru needs to decide. He needs to go and he needs to go now.

Mustering all the strength in his body, he hikes up his hood. Gathers the tails of his cloak to stop them from snagging on low hanging branches before stepping out into the field.

The effects of the moon are immediate, the light striking his very core, traveling up his veins to the ends of every one of his extremities, and he urges his feet to move faster, faster, faster.

He’s a third of the way across the clearing when his pursuer bursts out of the forest. Lands heavily on the balls of his feet before he begins to give chase. Slowly but surely, he starts to gain on Tooru, the omega huffing and puffing as he tries to shade himself from the moon’s light.

But the rays are strong, their effect even more and Tooru’s finds himself falling back, lungs burning in his chest like a five-alarm fire, legs wobbly beyond belief.

There’s a loud swirling sound behind him, followed by a yelp, and despite knowing that it’s the worst decision he could make given the current climate, he looks back, eyes widening at the sight of a large oak tree bursting from the soil, nearly impaling the alpha on its sharp jutting branches.

Yes, yes. Of course. He’s a witch. A nature witch. Practices magic that controls all of the elements. The vine was his first reminder. Of his power, his skills, the innate magic that courses through his veins.

He begins to mutter spells under his breath, thighs slipping and sliding against one another as the slick begins to fall once again. It runs down his legs, streams of sweet and sticky lust teasing the beast giving chase, and he cries despondently before focusing all of his strength on the ground pulsing beneath his feet.

Three trees erupt from the soil, desecrating the neatly pruned grass and causing chunks of soil to fly haphazard. The debris bounces off the alpha’s body and the man curses loudly as a prickly hawthorn immediately follows after, its sharp needle-like pins stabbing into his flesh as it grows taller than logically feasible.

All around, nature is coming to the witch’s defense. Some aspects summoned by Tooru, others of their own volition. Angry and raging to protect the omega, help him escape his precarious state, and the more panicked he grows, the alpha’s scent spiking with the anger of being so blatantly rejected, the faster the foliage grows.

Barriers spring from the ground at mach speed but the alpha vaults over them with ease. Maneuvers his body with the lithe dexterity of a wild animal on a hunt, ravenous and seething and violently desperate to capture his prey.

They’re halfway across the field when Tooru gives a straggled gasp. Comes to a pause, hand clamped over his chest.

Generative magic takes a toll on the body and is supposed to only be invoked with regular intervals of ample rest. Yet here he is, using up all his mana at the rate of coins exchanging hands at the market, the moonlight not helping matters in any way.

He feels as though he’s drowning. Gasping, heaving, panting for air that just isn’t enough to fill his incapacitated lungs. His legs are quaking, his thighs trembling, and he’s positive that he’s left a trail of slick behind him, the sticky release gushing from his body like the heavy downpour of a summer monsoon.

A shriek of despair erupts from his throat when he feels a strong hand wrap around his wrist, the alpha jerking him back with a feral growl. He pulls Tooru so that he falls against his chest, but the omega refuses to go down without a fight.

He twists in the other’s arms, elbow digging into the alpha’s solar plexus, and manages to shove him away, wrist cradled to his chest.

“Get the hell away from me. I already have an alpha,” he snarls. Or at least, he tries to. His voice comes out shaky. Lilted. And he knows how he probably sounds. Demure. Enticing. Weak. The perfect prey for a hungry wolf.

Another gush of slick shoots out of his throbbing cunt and he swallows as he peers into the alpha’s dark eyes, thoroughly engulfed in lust.

“I know,” the other replies, cringing as he pulls a few stray thorns out of his thigh and looks back at Tooru. Now that they’re face to face, recognition finally dawns on the omega — he’s being harassed by the stone mason’s son. A burly dark-haired alpha. The only heir to his family. “We all saw that little show you put on with that grimy woodcutter you like to roll around in the dirt with.”

“And yet, here we are. Are you insane?” Tooru seethes. He grabs the edge of his cloak. Lifts and flaps it in indignation, belatedly realizing what a terrible idea that is when the alpha licks his lips, gaze narrowing in on the thick streams of slick caking the inside of his thighs. Sweet and tempting and Tooru quickly drops the fabric to reassume his modesty.

But it’s too late. The alpha steps forward again, a feral glint shining in his eye. “I’m just giving you the chance to change your mind. You may think you’re taken by that woodcutter right now. He’s rugged and muscular and you’re being swayed by fanciful notions of love, but do you honestly think he stands a chance of inheriting?”

There is some truth in his words — nothing within the Iwaizumi family is a guarantee. Hajime is the sixth of eight strong alphas and when the time comes, he’ll definitely have his work cut out for him. Still, that doesn’t give this bastard the right to run his mouth, to question Hajime’s commitment, and Tooru glares to show his displeasure.

“One day, he won’t even be able to afford wool, let alone provide you with cloaks of that caliber. You’ll be the one to support your family, not the other way around. Doesn’t sound like a very happy marriage to me — it’s the alpha’s job to take care of their omega, after all.”

Anger rages through Tooru and three prickly rose bushes burst out of the ground, thorns scraping across the alpha’s bare chest as they shoot upward. They loom threateningly above the man, physical manifestations of the omega’s fury. “Shut up! Don’t you dare talk about my alpha that way.”

The alpha bristles at the insolence, no doubt unused to being mouthed back at. He snarls as he grabs for Tooru’s wrist once again, eyes narrowed, teeth bared. “He’s only your alpha after he claims you. No weird childhood pact can make you his if you already belong to another.”

Tooru screams bloody murder as he tries to pull his arm away, but it’s all for vain this time. He’s too weak. From the physical exertion. From his depleted mana. From his heat which he’s seconds away from fully succumbing to.

Usually, this situation wouldn’t even be an issue. He’s taken down alphas twice his size. Wrestled with Hajime and his alpha siblings and emerged victorious on more than one occasion without invoking a single spell. He’s lithe and quick on his feet and he knows how to fight. He knows how to defend himself. He isn’t weak.

But in this moment he is.

Instinct is a funny thing. No matter how much he tries to run from it. Prove over and over and over again that he can do it all, there are still moments of inadequacy. Gaps that need to be plugged. Tasks that require an alpha — and he’s forced to admit that it’s a miracle he’s held his ground for this long.

Slick is dripping. So much of it. Coursing down his leg, all the way to his ankles, and he finally collapses.

The stone mason falls with him. Scrambles on top of his body, hands now tight on both wrists, and boxes him in by pinning his hands down on either sides of his head.

He takes a heady sniff. Makes a pleased rumbling noise as he looks the omega over with desecrated lust and Tooru feels his stomach churn violently.

He’s going to be sick.

The alpha’s weight is heavy. His breath rancid and his grin maniacal and fat tears bead at the corners of Tooru’s eyes. This cannot be it. He refuses to believe. To submit to this bastard, be claimed against his will.

He promised himself to his best friend, his partner, his alpha, the love of his life. He promised himself to Hajime.

Salty streams are rolling down his cheeks, his sobs catching in his throat as the alpha begins to nuzzle his throat, thoroughly coat Tooru in his scent, slowly overwriting Hajime’s.

Instinct is roaring at him to submit. Roll over and present to this beast who clearly has him trapped, but his inner omega, the one that’s already unknowingly mated with Hajime is still willing to fight. Desperately looking to escape and make its way back to its alpha.

The pit of his stomach burns, racks with butterflies all the same. And slowly but surely, his despair migrates to their surroundings.

The alpha looks up as a swirling mist slowly eddies towards them, intensity exacerbating the more furious the butterflies grow. It slowly bowls itself over into a massive ball, one that slams into his back with enough force to unseat him.

The following seconds pass like hours, in slow motion, as Tooru uses the last of his strength to jam his leg up. Knees the alpha in the groin once, then twice with much more force.

The stone mason howls in surprise, in pain, and it’s just enough of a broken breadth for Tooru to scramble back on his hands, relief stark on his face.

His feet kick up dirt as he moves, frantically trying to put as much distance between himself and the other as possible.

The stone mason clenches his stomach, eyes shifting from murky yellow to blaring lava red. He prowls forward on his hands and knees, follows Tooru’s every move, unwilling to give up, but Tooru is the same.

The momentary displacement has relieved him of his agony. Cleared his thoughts and revived the will to persevere. Reinforced the fact that he isn’t alone.

And as he continues to crab-walk back, knees caked in dirt, ankles scratched and cut, he finally remembers what every omega does when they’re in trouble. When they’re flat out of options with nowhere to go.

They call for their alpha.

“Hajime!” he screams, lungs nearly rupturing with magnitude of his voice. “Hajime!”

The air shifts almost immediately; he can smell a familiar scent, fresh sandalwood and pine, and when he screams once again, it takes on a scorching edge. A forest on fire, incinerating everything in its wake.

Hajime is furious.

“Hajime, help me!” he screams once again and lord, is he in trouble. The stone mason is seething with anger, scent curdling in a manner that forces Tooru to press a palm over his nose. He’s increased the stench of his pheromones and Tooru gives a loud sob as he fights the continued urge to present.

He wants his alpha; not this one. He wants Hajime.

“Hajime!”

The ground below him rumbles. Trembles. Quakes. And before he can collect himself, a thick trunk bursts out of the earth, scattering debris as it shoots into the sky and knocks the alpha back on his ass.

Bright orange leaves scatter every which way as a weeping cherry’s branches extend menacingly. They shield Tooru from the moonlight but it’s already too late. His body has entered the final stage of preheat. Of the moon cycle. And he will be rendered defenseless in just a few moments.

He cinches his eyes, scours his exhausted mind for any other spell that won’t require too much strength. Buy Hajime more time to find him. But it ends up being unnecessary.

Because as soon as the stone mason gathers his wits. Gets to his feet and lunges for Tooru once more, they hear a loud creak.

Everything feels as though it’s happening in slow motion. Hajime’s eyes are blood crimson red, his lips curled back menacingly as he takes another step forward. Snaps twigs underfoot and the smell. God, the smell.

Tooru feels his mouth water as he tastes the fury radiating off of Hajime on his tongue. Freshly chopped sandalwood set to burn. His favorite scent in the world.

“Get your filthy claws away my mate,” Hajime growls and Tooru sobs as he feels his body seize. Cum at the sound of his alpha’s deep voice before finally succumbing to the first wave of his heat, breath catching, legs spread, cunt drooling.

Both alpha’s eyes darken in lust as Tooru’s hips jerk off the ground inadvertently. Hump the empty air as his body searches for some semblance of skin-to skin contact. Loud, mournful whimpers drip from his lips like fresh honey and he moans vehemently when Hajime steps closer, his scent assaulting all of his senses.

“Alpha,” Tooru cries, right hand clenching and relaxing as he reaches towards Hajime. Tries to grab onto his best friend, anchor himself to a sense of safety.

But all he gets is a graze of the other’s trousers as Hajime tackles the stone mason. Slams his face into the ground, only to growl when the other rolls over with a snarl.

The mason scoots his hips back. Forces an inch of space between their bodies which he uses to bring his feet up. Presses them against Hajime’s chest and extends his legs with enough force to launch Hajime away from him.

Tooru watches through bleary eyes as Hajime flies back. Lands on the balls of his feet, quelling the backslide by leaning forward and dragging his claws through the dirt, his body hunched over menacingly. His trousers are caked in dirt, there’s a little tear in the right upper thigh, and the two alphas begin to slowly circle one another, chests heaving from exertion.

He tries to sit up, damp soil caking the sides of his forearm, the edges of his beautiful cloak frayed.

The pair becomes a tangle of limbs, hissing and growling as the alphas slash at each other. Their claws are extended, grappling in an attempt to situate themselves into an advantageous position and at one point they both jump. Collide with enough force to cause a thundering clap upon contact, the ground trembling in response. Their hands lock, their feet shuffling for better grip and then they’re falling, teeth still bared as they roll further and further into the field.

The omega whimpers mournfully when Hajime yelps in pain. Sees a gush of red rip from his alpha’s arm, the stone mason’s lips pulled back in a triumphant bloody grin before he spits out a tooth. And then they’re back at it.

It feels as though Tooru’s living two lives as he lolls his head back. Stares at the night sky through the canopy of leaves, the stars twinkling in their peace as the sound of a war wages around him.

His body is warm. The slick has made a puddle on his filthy cloak and he can’t help but moan. Cry for his alpha who’s going to hold him close. Kiss his neck and fuck his hole and make it all better. Just like Hajime’s always promised.

The stone mason gives a predatorial growl as he crashes into the ground for a second time, right shoulder first. Hajime pins him down with his knee, mouth drawn back into a snarl. His pupils have elongated into horizontal slits and thick scratches don his entire torso and he stares down at the other alpha with the fury of a wolf prepared to defend its pack.

He leans over the stone mason, ready to tear his throat out, only to growl when the other sweeps his legs with a well-aimed mule kick. Hajime lands heavily on his back, a loud groan spilling from his mouth that quickly turns into a hiss when the other alpha clambers on top of him. Immobilizes him with a hand around his jugular, the other pulled back behind his head.

A helpless cry escapes Tooru’s as the stone mason balls his free hand into a fist. Reels it even further back before bringing it down with enough force to rip Hajime’s throat out.

But Hajime is two steps ahead. Waits until the very last second to jerk his head to the right before using the momentary unbalance to unseat his opponent. Bridge and roll until he has the other trapped under him once again, his own hand poised to attack.

Instead of following through, however, he leans back on his heels. Gets to his own feet and then hauls the other up, claws digging into the stone mason’s clavicle and drawing blood.

Tooru sobs at the smell, at the sight. The way Hajime’s face is filled with ravenous bloodlust — a beast set to kill to protect its mate.

Hajime brings his knee up twice in succession, tugging the stone mason down so that the impact is multiplied trifold before following with a well aimed punch to his face. The mason howls in pain as he topples backwards, hand cupped over his right eye where he’s no doubt burst a socket and Hajime follows with heavy steps. Delivers a painful uppercut to his jaw and two blows to his stomach, hard enough that the other finally collapses.

He drops down heavily. Straddles the stone mason’s waist, right arm flexed and wrapped around his throat, eyes widened with the mania of a lunatic. His claws are extended, eager to draw blood and he does so by dragging them down the side of the other’s face, in a way that is sure to scar.

The stone mason screeches in pain and Tooru desperately wants to look away, the scene growing far too morbid for his eyes. And yet, he can’t. Something about the fury in Hajime’s eyes. His thundering tone when he addresses the other, fingers tightening, has him bewitched.

“If I ever see you even breathe in his direction again, I’ll rip your fucking throat out,” Hajime snarls, driving the base of his palm into the other’s trachea to underscore his words. The other alpha thrashes, grabs at his wrist in an attempt to tug it off, but it’s clear that Hajime has him rendered useless. He finally stops his struggle and nods when he comes to the same realization, only to yelp as Hajime tosses him aside with disgust.

Tooru weakly lifts his head to watch the stone mason take off at a sprint, fear deep set in his eyes, as Hajime slowly limps his way towards him. He’s clutching his right bicep with his left hand, his steps staggering, and he collapses on his knees when his toes are only a few inches from Tooru’s bare arm, breathing harshly.

“Tooru.”

Tooru tilts his head back. Smothers the other in his scent in hopes of quelling his nerves and groans loudly when Hajime does the same.

“Hajime, Hajime, please,” he cries, hips bucking furiously as his heat comes back in full stride. Sends shocks of thundering fire up his nerves at the very whiff at the other. His alpha. His mate. The only one he’s ever wanted. “Hajime, please. It hurts. It hurts so much. Make it stop.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Hajime winces, voice strained as his eyes rake over the other’s clammy body. He lifts a shaking hand, curls it into Tooru’s hair and tilts it back.

His nails are caked in blood, drops splattered along his cheek as well, and Tooru keens loudly at the sight. Of his alpha, the one who just fought to protect him. “I’ll make it go away.”

“Please, Hajime,” Tooru whimpers, hissing when he feels the other’s fingers tighten in his roots, the pull of hair so delicious that his hips bridge higher and higher. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so good.”

“I know you will, baby. You’re always so perfect for me. Just hold on,” Hajime replies, swinging his leg over Tooru’s hip so that he’s straddling the other. The weight of his body, the feel of his skin against his own, causes the omega to wail mournfully, and before he can do anything to stop it, he’s cumming. Long and hard, soiling his gorgeous cloak.

Hajime licks his lips as he feels some of Tooru’s slick leak through the fabric of his trousers, soaking the backs of his thighs. He leans forward, canines extended piercing sharp, and quickly unclasps the brooch holding Tooru’s cloak together before tugging at the thick ribbon.

The knot quickly unravels, the soft fabric falling flat as a makeshift blanket beneath them and Tooru shivers as the cold evening breeze glides over him. His pert nipples harden almost immediately and he gives a mournful wail when the other leans down to close his lips over the left one.

“Hajime!” he screams, fingers curling in his alpha’s hair as the other sucks hard, hugging him close to his chest and arching his back. “Alpha, please.”

He can feel Hajime. The alpha’s body shaking as he fights the will to unceremoniously claim the omega there and then. Keeps himself in check and allays the beast thrashing and roaring deep inside.

Hajime takes his time kissing down the expanse of Tooru’s chest, lips curling with every additional wail the omega makes, his skin burning red hot at the brush of his alpha’s mouth.

He shuffles backwards, ensuring that the omega stays pinned beneath him. It’s likely a precaution in case Tooru tries to escape once again. Unnecessary, but appreciated — all the regenerative mana in the universe wouldn’t be enough to convince Tooru to flee, especially when he came so close to belonging to another. He’s beneath his alpha, the one he desires. The one he loves. And he’s aching to be claimed.

Hajime’s body is firm. Heavy. His hands warm as he caresses the other’s body.

He finally crawls back off his bare shins, grabs one of Tooru’s ankles and gives it a jerk, growling loudly as Tooru musters the remainder of his strength to keep his legs pressed tighter. Issues a last minute challenge to his alpha, one final show of resistance that he knows his inner beast will enjoy and keens when Hajime does as expected.

The alpha grabs his knees and rips them apart with a snarl. Forces Tooru to submit, his fingers frantic as they dip under the soaked crotch and trace up Tooru’s labial lips.

Tooru sucks in a deep breath. Allows his head to fall backwards as the alpha continues his ministrations. Drags his fingers up the front of his pubic bone, to the side of his hip where he pushes his nail through the thin fabric and tears it apart.

He wastes no time snapping the other side. Grabbing Tooru’s knees and pushing his legs up so that his ankles are grazing the seams of his ass before settling between his legs, moaning carnally as he runs his tongue up the side of Tooru’s calf.

“God, Tooru,” he grunts, flattening his tongue to give a firmer lick, this time allowing himself to trail further up. Tooru throws his head back. Whimpers in return, legs trembling and pussy drooling as Hajime nears it.

He tips his chin forward, a shiver coursing down his spine when he locks eyes with his alpha — lustful and hungry and oh, so famished.

Hajime’s fangs are sharp, dig into the plush skin on the inside of his thigh as he continues to trail upwards, only pausing as he reaches the sensitive folds of Tooru’s scent gland.

He noses at the gland, nips and pulls at the skin before giving it a soft kiss and refocusing his attention to Tooru’s bare cunt, sopping wet and clenching with each additional press of Hajime’s lips against his skin.

Hajime spreads him wide, eyes glinting and mouth watering. Saliva drips from the corners of his lips as he nears the most guarded of Tooru’s parts and takes a heady sniff, groaning ravenously at the heightened pheromones the omega immediately releases in response.

Everything is so fucking hot.

Tooru whimpers at the vulgar display. Throws his forearm over his eyes and juts his hips as Hajime thumbs him apart. Prods and rubs as he takes in his scent.

“God, doll, you smell so good,” Hajime murmurs, circling his pointer finger around his clit before pushing the hood back and tentatively sucking at the head. “You’re so pretty down here. Taste good, too.”

Tooru flushes at the praise. At the way the alpha groans lasciviously, the edges of his teeth dragging against the sensitive skin, causing his pussy to drip more generously.

It’s true that Hajime has always made his attraction towards Tooru obvious. Never given the omega a reason to doubt how much the alpha desires him. But this? This is different. It’s blatant and unabashed. Straightforward and shameless and so, so caked in lust that he barely knows how to respond.

His legs shift in Hajime’s hold and he presses his knees together in an attempt to maintain a long dissipated sense of decency. It’s futile, however, as Hajime easily reaches up. Cups the caps and forces his legs back apart with a growl before running his finger up and down the leaking slit.

Tooru whimpers, fingers tangling in his own bangs and hips rutting as Hajime gently blows over his drippy pussy, hot breath causing a contention of temperatures as it caresses the dried slick caking his skin.

“Don’t look,” he whimpers, shivering when Hajime huffs. Kisses the dip between his thigh and groin before gently biting down.

“No,” the alpha replies huskily, digging his teeth deeper into the unmarred flesh. “I’m gonna look. Every part of you. This is all I’ve ever wanted and now that I have you, I’m—”

He drifts off, distracted by the drop of slick forming at the edge of his clit. It drips off in a bead, slides down the soft lips of his pussy and Hajime wastes no time lapping it up. Dragging his tongue up from the base of his ass, between the tender folds, the flat of his rough tongue gliding harshly across the expanse of his sopping cunt.

He pulls up when he reaches the cusp of Tooru’s hood, a satisfied noise rumbling in the back of his throat before diving back in with more fervor.

“Oh,” Tooru sighs pleased, hips rising as Hajime nudges him further apart. “Right there, please.”

The alpha obeys, fingers digging into the soft muscle of Tooru’s ass as he thumbs his cunt open.

He leans in. Kisses it lovingly, once, then twice. A few more times before grabbing Tooru’s thighs and guiding them over his shoulders, flicking his tongue and wriggling it as he pushes it back between the folds to get a better taste.

And then, he circles his lips. Seals them over his omega’s entrance and sucks like his life depends on it.

Tooru screams. Thrashes in Hajime’s hold, thighs spasming as the alpha exposes him to the night sky, the billions of twinkling stars above them. Their glimmer compliments the moonlight, seeps through the gaps of the weeping cherry’s branches, painting them both in starlight.

Tooru sobs, legs quivering as Hajime pauses to drag his tongue from the base of his pussy back to his tender clit. Again, then again and again and again. It’s as if molten lava is churning in his stomach, its heat intensifying with each additional brush of the alpha’s lips, a happy rumble vibrating in Hajime’s throat as he continues to suck and lick and lap and prod, his blood-caked nails gripping onto the plush soft skin of the omega’s ass.

And then it happens — Hajime grazes the center of his clit with the edge of his teeth. Drags them along the sensitive nerves, over and over, with enough pressure to have the omega seeing stars.

Tooru shrieks as his hips bridge of their own accord. Pull away from the other’s mouth, his right hand slamming down on Hajime’s scalp before dragging forward to fist his fringe. He whimpers and whines as he desperately tries to push the alpha’s face away, his pussy tingling from the overstimulation of multiple orgasms being forcefully torn from his body one after another.

His breath is coming in sharp bouts, the weight in his chest growing, and he yelps as it becomes too much, too soon, his eyes blearing, the stars turning hazy and he flails in the other’s hold.

“Haji — stop — too much—” He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

Hajime’s claws are piercing sharp against his unmarred skin, his lips suctioned tight over his leaking hole and when the omega continues to try and shove him off once more, he lifts his face.

The bottom half drenched in Tooru’s slick, eyes the same honey gold as the wolf’s, and he glares at the omega for disrupting his meal, a thick stream of saliva dripping from the edge of his mouth.

“Stop moving.”

His voice sends jolts of pleasure up Tooru’s spine. The low, commanding timbre of a future pack leader trailing up the omega’s body, filling every last one of his nerves with its warmth. Its love for its mate and the desperation to make him feel good.

Tooru whines softly in response. Drops his head back and spreads his leg even further to make more room for the alpha, his puffy clit enlarging as Hajime continues to suck. Drags his teeth across his sweet, sweet folds, desperate to mark every last inch of him.

The fire in his stomach rolls over twice. A five-alarm scorch spreading from his groin to the very ends of his nerves, stuttered pleas catching in his throat.

Hajime grunts contently as he continues to drink the slick, movements firm and purposeful as though he’s partaking from a never-ending fountain of ambrosia, the obscene sound of his lapping causing a dizzyingly pink cloud to settle over their heads, paint them in the muted rose tinted filter that Tooru’s always viewed their relationship through. Loving and obsessive and absolutely irrevocable.

The thoughts knock his rationale off kilter, his head spinning as he reaches down between his legs. Gently nudges the other’s forehead back with a pleading whine that cuts short when the alpha heeds. And before he can think better, he’s stretching his pointer and middle finger into a taut V. Pressing it over the lips of his cunt and spreading himself so much that Hajime can see every last soft plush pink fold. “‘M sorry, Alpha.”

Hajime immediately loses all sense of rationality, the last semblance of poise he had managed to hold onto immediately unraveling. He growls loudly before diving back between Tooru’s legs with more purpose. His throat rumbles as he slurps up the slick, greedy vulgar pants falling from his lips as he continues to take and take and take.

It’s as though he’s a parched man, a lost and starved voyager coming upon a mirage in the middle of a desert stretching for miles on end. The desperation of his kisses, the way he alternates between sniffing and sucking, Tooru’s slick spreading across his face like fresh cream on bread. Uncaring, insatiable, and so, so famished for more.

Tooru flushes as Hajime pushes ups on his forearms. Presses the omega’s thighs up and back into the fabric in an attempt to further part him, maddening growls falling from his lips and causing his body to quiver in response.

The noises he’s making are downright salacious. Visceral and loud, multiplied tenfold by the stillness of the forest. His lips smack against skin, against each other as he eats Tooru out, satisfied grunts dripping from his mouth as he parts his labia. Runs the flat of his tongue over the sensitive folds of skin over and over and over again.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans when he finally pauses to rest, hot breath puffing against Tooru’s cunt, causing his insides to twist. His chest heaves as he cards his fingers through Hajime’s hair. Locks eyes with his alpha, his pussy inadvertently clenching at what he sees.

Dilated and feral — the eyes of a ravenous beast raging to take its fill and look absolutely intoxicated. Hajime is drunk on the Tooru’s taste the omega he’s desired for god knows how long. Loved longer than the world itself has turned.

Thick streams of slick drip down his chin.

Tooru moans at the sigh. Clamps his thighs tight around the other’s head and forces him back into his heat.

He had been looking forward to this part. Had had his interest peaked when one of the more outspoken omegas has scandalously boasted about her alpha’s sinful tongue at the last harvest festival. She’d compared the feeling to the collision of two stars. The marriage of the sky to the earth. So powerfully ground moving and utterly cathartic, and though her description had painted a vivid image of just how pleasurable an experience it would be, Hajime has still managed to exceed Tooru’s expectations.

He sobs as he grabs Hajime by the roots of his hair, fingers scrunching deliciously tight in the alpha’s dirty spikes, and drags him closer between his legs.

Most alphas wouldn’t appreciate being pushed around by their omegas, forced to do their bidding. They prefer to take charge, for their mates to heed their commands and submit and prioritize their own pleasure above all.

Hajime isn’t most alphas, however.

He turns his face whichever direction Tooru guides it. Allows his omega to tug on his hair like reins.

He’s generous with his kisses and licks, thoroughly bruises every inch of skin his lips come into contact with, and continues to drive Tooru up into higher and higher levels of pleasure.

Tooru whines as he humps the other’s face. Sounds and feels like a back-alley whore as he desperately grinds his cunt all over, makes a mess of slick and spit and intersperses broken cries of Hajime’s name as he begs for his alpha to please, please, please.

Hajime growls once again as he sits up. Lifts Tooru’s hips up and over his waist, his thighs supporting the other’s weight before he wraps his arms around his lower back. He tugs him up as he straightens his back and laps at his quivering pussy, long and slow. Over and over and over again, sharp nails breaking skin.

The surrounding forest has settled into a relative silence, save for the distant carnal sounds of other pairs and the occasion hoot of an owl.

Tooru sobs, grips the other’s hair tight as his legs shake violently in his hold, cunt clenching as the alpha drags his tongue over the tender folds once again. Gathers a thick amount of slick on his tongue before pulling back. Locking eyes with his omega as he drops his jaw.

A steady stream pours from his mouth, saliva and slick, back into Tooru’s clenching pussy, the omega gasping harshly as he feels the combined effect of Hajime’s devotion, his warmth, his love, coats his insides in the crudest display of possession possible. 

“Can I—” Hajime starts with a groan, dragging his rough tongue down the inside of Tooru’s thigh and over his folded scent gland, kissing and licking and nipping some more.“Can I mark you here?”

A high-pitched whine falls from Tooru’s lips as he nods, hips bucking furiously of their own accord.

“E-everywhere,” he manages between keens. “Mark me everywhere.”

That’s all the acknowledge Hajime needs and he wastes no further time sinking his teeth into the swollen skin. Bites and bites down hard and Tooru screams as he unravels under the compounded result of overt pain and pleasure. The colors on the backs of his eyelids flash from black to red to yellow to blinding white, burning flames rising and his entire body quaking in response.

Hajime curls his fingers around his thigh. Digs his tips into the toned muscle and deepens the bite, resolute in ensuring that it will remain for all of eternity. It won’t, but they both know that.

This isn’t a claim bite and like all the other ephemeral bites Hajime will impose on Tooru tonight, it will eventually fade with time. However, in retrospect, it is the one that will matter the most to Tooru because it is his first. His first mating bite, the first break of his skin by his beloved alpha’s teeth. The first of many to come in the years ahead.

He moans loudly, hands fisting in his cloak as Hajime pulls away. Swipes at his mouth with the back of his wrist before he opens it wider. Bites down again, effectively marking Tooru’s gland with two bloody indents stacked one on top of the other, his presence carved starkly into the other’s skin.

He thumbs over the wound. Watches as more blood beads at the edges and licks it to stem the flow before turning back to Tooru who’s stopped squirming.

The omega’s head is thrown back in a post-orgasmic daze, lips parted and frozen, eyes glued to the North Star, steadfast and unblinking.

Everything is so bright.

Hajime slowly lowers him back to the ground. Makes his way back up to the other’s lips and gently presses their mouths together before brushing Tooru’s bangs out of his eyes and nuzzling his throat. A content rumble thrums in his throat as he continues to run his fingers over his omega’s bare body, his touch like sparked embers on his skin.

Tooru can taste the metallic aftertaste of fresh blood on his tongue mixed with the saccharine cherry blossom undertones of his own slick. He shivers under the other’s weight, slowly returns to conscious under the alpha’s loving ministrations. His own hand cards through Hajime’s hair as though on autopilot, voice catching on a whimper when Hajime turns to kiss the side of his throat. Mouths dangerously over his scent glands, his fingers lazily making their way back to down Tooru’s thighs.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” Hajime says as he presses his middle finger to Tooru’s pussy. His voice is gravelly and low and Tooru’s hips jerk at the intrusion. “Is this all for me?”

He grazes Tooru’s sweet spot. Thumbs over his clit and grins widely as he slowly adds another finger. Tooru immediately bucks in response, the whine playing on his lips growing louder as Hajime scissors and curls his fingers.

He does it once, then twice. Jostles his wrist from side to side as he coaxes Tooru to cream himself. And when the omega finally obeys, relaxes into that familiar cloud nine sensation that the other has already accustomed him to, pulls his fingers out with a loud squelch.

He presents them to the other. Rubs them together, both men watching with trancelike marvel when Hajime finally spreads them, thick strands of slick webbing in between.

Tooru squirms in embarrassment. Groans languidly as Hajime silently pushes them past his lips. They graze the back of his tongue and he grips his alpha’s wrist with both hands. Generously coats his thick fingers before dragging his tongue down the crevice in between, flicking his tongue in and out mischievously.

Hajime sucks in a deep breath as he pushes down harder on Tooru’s tongue, eyes locked to the omega’s face and body heavy on top.

Tooru preens at the attention, purses his lips and throws his head back to exposing his throat when the alpha dips them back between his legs.

This time, Hajime pulls them into his own mouth. Groans appreciatively as he tastes his omega’s slick once again. Some of the residue drips down the side of his wrist and he makes a big show of lapping it up, tongue gliding up his forearm as he maintains eye contact.

Tooru feels as though he’s drowning. His breaths are catching in his chest, his heart beating in overdrive, thumping harsh against his ribcage in powerful boom, boom, booms at the sight of his beloved partaking his essence so willingly.

  A weak howl sounds behind them, shocking Hajime back to the present, to the task at hand. He drops his arm, curls his fingers in the soft fabric of Tooru’s cloak and looms over his best friend.

His eyes are blown stark honey gold, his pupils wide, and he generously scents the air as he murmurs. “They said you were my reward, Tooru.”

His voice cracks with need and Tooru allows his eyes to fall closed. His toes curl and his chin lifts of its own accord, presenting his throat to his alpha who seems inebriated on lust.

“They said I could do whatever I want with you,” Hajime continues, callused hands grazing against the omega’s hip. He gently massages the firm muscle before dragging them down the expanse of his long legs, halting at Tooru’s knee where Hajime thrums them expectantly against the cap. “Is that true?” 

He pulls them back up along the inside of his thigh, lighting a fire everywhere he touches.

Pure, unadulterated heat radiates from the tips, warming Tooru from the inside out, and he can feel the passion, the absolute love Hajime carries for him in his heart, with every brush.

He whines once again when the alpha turns his face to the side. Grazes his lips, scorching hot, along the large and angry scar wrapped around the front of his right knee. It’s mostly healed now, the aftermath of a difficult spell gone wayward, though the jagged edges of the original wound still remain.

Hajime kisses the scabbed skin. Once, twice. tenderly. Kisses it again, no doubt recalling how close he came to losing his omega that day, how close they came to never having this bond that Tooru’s aching for.

His cunt drools as Hajime reorients his attention. Licks at the swollen lips, fingers working with more urgency now as he curls and presses and pushes against Tooru’s soft walls. His scent is spiking once more. Strong and potent, the only thing Tooru can conceive.

“Can I do whatever I want, Tooru?”

Perhaps it’s the request of confirmation that makes him clench down hard on the alpha’s fingers. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s lying beneath Hajime, the most exposed he’s ever been to anyone in life, including himself, and the alpha is still taking the time to affirm Tooru wants him. That Tooru wants this.

As if he could ever be stupid enough to desire anyone else when he has everything and more with the love of his life.

He sobs when Hajime’s middle finger grazes his sweet spot, back arching as he cums hard once again.

“Yes,” he gasps, fingers fisting in his fringe, the other curling around Hajime’s forearm to steady himself. “Yes, Alpha. Whatever you want.”

His nails dig sharply into the hard muscle of Hajime’s arm. Create long and angry scars as he drags them down to his wrist.

Hajime exhales sharply. Allows Tooru to scratch and claw at his skin before he realizes what the other wants. What he needs. And from there, it’s simple.

His hand moves of its own accord. Slides up to join with the omega’s, their fingers threading together as they lock, tight and firm and real.

There’s a soft swirling noise to their right and they turn just in time to see a fat white cosmo spring out of the grass, its petals quickly unfurling, long and soft and unblemished. It’s followed by a bright pink tulip and then another — this one deep orange, the color of the falling sun on a cold winter’s evening.

Flowers continue to sprout. Wildflowers that Tooru doesn’t recognize. Daisies and lilacs and stargazer lilies. Bursting from the ground like elated children called to dinner by their loving parents.

Slowly, but surely, a tiny field spawns around them, not unlike the one at the bonfire. Flowers pop and crackle, some erupting with the energetic step of a newborn hare while others take their time, gently unfurling before turning to face the pair.

There’re long stems and short stems. Flora Tooru has spawned thousands of times and then some he’s never seen before in his life. They draw closer and closer to the point he can feel some brush against his ankles, his bare arms, his thighs.

“You’re happy,” Hajime notes in awe and Tooru flushes before averting his gaze.

“Of course I am, stupid,” he replies, throwing an arm over his eyes to conceal his blush. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He jolts when he feels Hajime gently caresses his cheek. Push back his hair so that it’s tucked behind his ear.

The scent of fresh strawberries, of honey and summer fruit, of long midsummer evenings spent at the creek and Hajime scaling trees to obtain the fattest bunch of mulberries, crispy apples, fills his senses and he lifts his forearm just in time to catch the alpha tuck a light pink freesia into his hair.

His touch is gentle, his eyes so soft, and Tooru swallows at the sight of Hajime backdropped by the twinkling glimmer of a thousand and one stars. Boundless and innumerable, millions of billions of light-years away. Casting the alpha in their brilliant white light as if he’s a divine being, sent to Earth for the sheer purpose of loving Tooru.

It’s all too much. All too real. His chest swells and his breath catches and his heart is beating so fast it feels as though it’ll burst from deep inside, shoot straight into the sky and join the stars at any moment.

There’s another sharp whistling noise and they both jump as a pair of vines starts to wrap around their bodies, rejecting the modesty the flowers have upheld.

They curl up Hajime’s arms. Swirl and twist and coil and curl, like a curious corn snake inching its way into the sun after a long day spent in the shade.

Hajime laughs when they climb into his hair, poke at his ears and brush into his eyes, sweat-pea and jasmine flowers blooming with tinkling bell-like sounds, swaying in the gentle breeze of the evening. A particularly daring vine wraps around the circumference of his head, and the two come to the same realization.

“You used to have to do this by hand,” Hajime says, brushing his fingers against the leaves of the crown. Tooru watches as he picks a flower hanging low over his temple and hands it to Tooru, just as he’s done on numerous occasions in the past. Another flower quickly blooms to take its place. Kisses the alpha’s cheeks as its petals unfurl and Tooru can’t breathe.

He clenches his fingers around the soft petals of the flower. Feels its receptacle dig into the palm of his hand and all of sudden it’s all too much.

He wants Hajime. He wants him so bad.

His hands reach up of their own volition. Tug the alpha’s head down until Tooru’s hugging it to his chest. His voice cracks, aching with want. For the radiant and handsome man, tucked flush between his legs, sporting that adoring smile that always makes Tooru’s stomach flip-flop.

“Please, Hajime. Take me. Take me now, please.”

The alpha’s eyes narrow at the whine, a shiver coursing through his body.

“Yes,” he replies, swatting another wayward vine out of his face and leaning forward to press his lips against Tooru’s. A groan escapes the omega’s throat, high-pitched and desperate, and he locks his elbows around the back of Hajime’s neck. Holds him still and firm and in place as he kisses the alpha.

Kisses and kisses and kisses him some more. Licks at his upper lip, tastes the remnants of his sweet slick, before diving back in. Full tongue and mouth and spit, just the way he’s always yearned for.

A growl erupts from deep within Hajime, his movements spurning more forceful and erratic as he unclasps Tooru’s hands. Threads their fingers back together and slams them down on either side of the omega’s face, gracefully regaining control of the situation.

He peppers hot kisses down the side of Tooru’s throat, sharp incisors gliding and digging into the soft skin, dragging over the other’s swollen scent glands and causing his pheromones to spike and intermix with his own.

Their combined scent has a dizzying effect on Tooru’s mind. The intoxicating smell of sandalwood and cherry blossoms. Of pine and musk and sweet spring flowers, caving in like a fat and fluffy cloud right before a heavy downpour.

He whimpers as Hajime kisses across his chest, lips circling his tender nipple, before sitting back on his knees and shoving down his trousers.

It’s hard to look away as inch after inch of hard, golden muscle is revealed, the alpha’s  muscles flexing as he twists and turns to pull the fabric off without letting too much space between them.

He flings them away without much ceremony, pupils still dilated as he blankets his omega’s body with his own. Presses the entirety of his weight down. Cloaks Tooru from head to toe and covers him with burning kiss after kiss.

Tooru whines, loud and unrestrained, and drags his own fingers down the other’s chest. Preens when Hajime shivers against his icy touch.

He strokes across the alpha’s stomach, lets his fingers dip dangerously close to his cock, before bringing them back up, drunk on the sound of his alpha’s praise.

Hajime’s abdominal muscles ripple and flex against his touch, Tooru’s own eyes fluttering as he basks in the long-desired reality of being held by his beloved. So close, so warm.

Time passes slow in the forest with the moon creeping across the sky, casting the pair in its light, despite the weeping cherry’s branches.

Tooru curls his hand around Hajime’s cock — fat and hot and burning with desire. His touch gentle, at first, through the poise rapidly disintegrates when the other gives a feral growl, urges Tooru to continue.

His breath catches at the base of his throat as Hajime fists his bangs. Tilts his head back so that they’re staring into one another’s eyes, and Tooru inadvertently groans when he feels a bulb begin to swell at the base of Hajime’s cock.

He swallows, a stream of slick dripping out of him, Hajime’s desire stark and ravenous, his gaze questioning.

Can I? it seems to ask.

As if he could ever say no — even the highest powers wouldn’t be able to tear them apart.

He responds by adjusting his grip on Hajime’s cock. Strokes it a few more times before spreading his legs wider and touching the tip to his heat.

A sliver of precum drips off the head. Lands between Tooru’s lips, slips lazily into his pussy and he whimpers. Whines. Toes curling and breath coming harsh as he begins to slowly guide the alpha into him.

Hajime inhales sharply, head tipping forward as he grits his teeth. The hand curled in Tooru’s hair tightens while the other balls into a fist by the other’s head. His nails cut into his palm, form crescents that slowly raise blood at the edges, the alpha desperately resisting the urge to thrust inside all at once.

Inch by aching inch, Tooru slowly takes Hajime into his body. Shifts his hips and shuffles downwards as he draws the other deep inside his core, the drag of his alpha’s cock so hot, so heavy, so fucking good.

Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Some from pain but most from elation and he exhales shakily when Hajime finally bottoms out.

He can feel his mate pulsing. Throbbing. The heat he’s radiating vibrating deep within his belly and he whines. Loud and shrill, head lolling back and lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he attempts to disperse some of the pain. Above him, Hajime makes a rumbling noise, guttural and low, dragging from deep within his throat.

Tooru opens his eyes at the sound. Looks up at his alpha through blurry vision and gasps at the sight before him.

The moon is situated right above them. Optimally positioned, so that it shrouds them in its brilliance. Halos the back of Hajime’s head and Tooru feels faint.

The butterflies in his stomach are wreaking havoc, his heart threatening to explode, burst into millions of tiny little stardust pieces. And he all but screams, unsure of what else to do, what else he wants. Because he has it all. He has Hajime, his alpha, his soulmate, the love of his life above him, inside him, around him — everywhere, everywhere, everywhere and more.

“Now, Hajime,” he moans, voice catching, breath stuttering, everything feeling hot, hot, hot. “Please.”

  Hajime obeys almost immediately. Pulls his hips back and gives a tentative little snap, as though testing the waters. Confirming the omega can take it all. He follows up with a few shallow thrusts, short and sweet and it’s not nearly enough.

Tooru’s eyes snap open and he can only imagine what he looks like when he rectifies the hesitation. Meets the next thrust with one of his own before locking his ankles behind the alpha’s hips. Grabbing him by the fringe and tugging his head back so that they’re seeing eye to eye and snarling.

“Fuck me like you mean it.” Hot breath clouds against the alpha’s lips. “Claim me. Take me. Take what’s yours.”

Hajime’s eyes immediately darken and he starts to fuck into his omega with more intent. It takes a bit more coaxing, a few heady pleas, filthy kisses and demands for more, but little by little all prior qualms disintegrate and Hajime finally throws caution to the wind.

He’s scorching fire inside of Tooru. Hot brushes of his cock kissing the other’s insides with each additional thrust and Tooru makes sure to let his pleasure be known.

Long unrestrained moans and whimpers of the other’s name fall from his lips. Exaggerated. Lithe. He digs his fingertips into the thick muscles of Hajime’s shoulder-blades, feels them twitch under his possessive touch as he goads the alpha on, and suddenly it all unravels. All comes down.

Something snaps deep within Hajime’s core and he starts to fuck Tooru like he’s lost all of his senses. Succumbed to the madness within, the vehement intrinsic need to claim and mark and dominate the omega as his own.

He wants to lay stake to Tooru’s body, sign his ownership over each and every inch of wonderfully milky pale skin. Make it so that a single whiff signals that Tooru belongs to a strong and possessive alpha. One that won’t hesitate to tear throats out to protect his mate, his love, the one he’s lusted for ever since they presented, since the beginning of time.

And Tooru has zero objections.

He raises his hips to match the alpha’s thrusts. Moans loudly when he feels his thick balls smack against his plush ass, thoughts of being filled. Bred. His stomach swelling fat and round with Hajime’s seed, his pups, commandeering his thoughts.

Hajime buries his face against his clavicle, the edge of his teeth grazing along the raised bone with each additional thrust and it’s all so much, all so wonderful that Tooru can no longer perceive anything but the other.

His alpha is so handsome, so rugged, so perfect. Thick and hot, filling him to the core. Devouring him with the ravenous hunger of a starving man who’s been denied far too long. He’s Tooru’s everything, his reason to live and love, and it’s only when someone gasps that he’s snatched from his rosy reverie.

He peeks to the side, bleary gaze clearing in just the slightest when he realizes they’re being watched. Recognizes their trespasser as the omega from the bonfire. The one with the communal cloak. One of the many who had eyed Hajime like a choice cut

Slick is running down the other’s leg in thick streams, leaves in his hair, and he watches the pair with wide eyes, a shameless whimper playing on his lips as Hajime fucks into Tooru like a wild animal, completely oblivious to the presence of another omega in heat.

Tooru snarls. Bares his teeth as he locks eyes with the other omega. Issues a warning for the other to leave, to let Hajime claim and consume and possess Tooru in whatever way he desires.

He wraps his arms around Hajime’s broad shoulders, one hand cupping the back of his nape as he tilts his own head back. Forces Hajime’s mouth to his throat and unabashedly submits to his alpha.

His legs clamp harder around Hajime’s waist and he arches his back, hips rising and fingers curling in the short hair as he puts on a show, a performance worthy of envy. Ensures the dirty, unkempt omega can see every last part of him, bruised and bitten. Littered in the love-bites he will surely brag about in the coming weeks.

Hajime is his. He belongs to him. To Tooru and Tooru alone and it’s time the others understood that.

He’d kept quiet at the bonfire. Allowed the others to undress his alpha with their eyes and play host to the dozens of salacious thoughts wreaking havoc in their minds. Fantasies that would never come to fruition and dreams that would never see the time of day, their judgmental glares as they’d looked Tooru over. Decided, for some god forsaken reason, that they were better than him and deserved Hajime more.

Deserved his gentle touch, his loving gaze, his bite. The way he holds Tooru flush, drives into his core like a madman drunk on his omega’s scent.

His lips are scouring hot, fire red. Claiming and marking and all-consuming. His nails, dirty from the blood he’d drawn fighting off an alpha who dared to look at his mate, scraping all over Tooru’s body. Carving his touch into him in more than one way.

In a way that’s driving Tooru insane.

“Harder, Alpha,” he groans, draping an arm over his forehead as Hajime drives his cock deep into his pussy. Kisses his cervix, thick beads of cum trickling into his womb, spilling all the way in, desperate to own him all. “Please, Alpha. Please.”

Hajime obeys eagerly. Pries Tooru’s arm off his face and loops it back around his neck. Encourages him to drag his fingers down the expanse of his back with carnal grunts and croons, harsh hisses that sound when Tooru’s nails cut into the soft flesh. Mar the corded muscle with thick and angry scratches, so long, so deep that they stretch all the way down to his lower half. 

He cups his hands over Hajime’s ass. Clenches it firm in his callused palms and with the next thrust, helps the alpha push. Ram his cock into his very core. So savage, so visceral, so deep, he can see the bulge lifting in his stomach; Hajime’s cock carving space in his body, forcing its way so far into Tooru that the omega sees stars.

Tooru cries sharply. His head lolls back, fingers pinching the alpha’s skin, scrambling along his back, his waist, all the way up to his head where he hugs Hajime to his chest. Clamps his thighs tight around his hips, his vision spinning, his breaths coming harsh.

He can’t see. He can’t see. He can’t see anything.

The reds and yellows and oranges of the forest are blurring with the inky blackness of the sky. Twinkling lights in his peripheral view and somewhere along the way, he completely forgot about the voyeur omega, the delusional bitch who thought he stood a chance with Tooru’s mate.

“Hajime,” Tooru groans as the alpha continues to pound into him, the snap of his hips generating enough force that Tooru’s legs slip. Unclasp from where they’ve been locked at his tailbone and land heavily on the cloaked floor.

Tooru can still smell their unwanted guest, the slick gushing from the other omega’s cunt at the sight of Hajime sitting back on his knees. Grabbing Tooru by his own, scabbed hands curving over the caps as he pushes his legs up and back, inadvertently spreading Tooru’s pussy as well.

It’s pink and swollen and so, so very tender.

Tooru jolts when his alpha thumbs the head of his clit. Presses up and back to coax the sensitive nub out of its sheath, the feeling of his rough fingers dragging against the delicate skin enough to make Tooru cream his cock.

He cums with a sob. Bridges his hips and wails as Hajime begins to violently rub his clit. Coerces another orgasm out of his body and then another, never letting up on his thrusts, even as the omega shoots straight into stratosphere and then slowly floats back down.

“Come on, doll,” Hajime grunts as he continues to stroke, his touch burning as it continues to assault the raw skin, his groin drenched in Tooru’s slick. “You love me, don’t you? Show me.”

He snaps his hips once more and Tooru exhales sharply.

His chest is heaving, his vision blurring, his body unable to keep up as Hajime forces another orgasm out of him.

He can feel the alpha’s cock deep in his stomach. The way each thrust rearranges his insides to make room for its girth. There’s a bulge growing in his belly and he stares at it entranced as Hajime gently drags his free hand over it. Caresses the swell in an almost tender manner before suddenly pressing down, his hips driving into his core in tandem.

The result is mind-shattering.

“A-alpha!” Tooru screams as if he’s being scorched alive, the pressure of Hajime’s heavy palm, the drag of his cock — both coming together to reduce Tooru to a, to a — he doesn’t even know what. Everything is so much, too much and yet, not enough. And the only thing he does know is that his wails are being violently ripped from him. Torn and forced, as if he’s being cleaved in two and it feels so, so fucking good.

His eyes roll back into his head as Hajime pushes him over the brink once again, his body exhausted and weak and he chances a look at their audience.

The other omega has creamed himself as well. Is breathing hard as he presses down on his groin, eyes entranced as he watches Hajime continue to fuck into Tooru, insatiable and slightly deranged in his ministrations, as if he’ll never have his fill of his omega. As if it’ll never be enough.

Soon enough, he turns his attention back to Tooru. Shrinks under the weight of the other’s glare, Tooru’s gaze absolutely spiteful as he lets his fingers trail down. Thread through Hajime’s, who immediately twines them together. Continues to snap his hips, the bulb of his knot growing thicker and thicker and thicker against his cunt.

Hajime lifts his chin. Glances at the bulge in Tooru’s stomach, mouth watering at the sight, before fisting Tooru’s fringe. Jerking his head up, away from the peeping omega, back towards the sky and Hajime’s blaring honey gold eyes.

“Look at me,” he snarls, fingers tightening in his omega’s hair, expression frighteningly possessive. “Never stop looking at me.”

“Never,” Tooru agrees and he tugs Hajime into a furious kiss. Teeth and tongue and no finesse.

He yelps loudly. Bites down on the other’s tongue as Hajime begins to rub over his stomach once more, hips slowly stilling.

The alpha presses down on the bulge, eyes lighting up as the omega immediately screams with pleasure. Lifts the entirety of his back off the ground, fist shoved into his mouth to quell the agonizing cries erupting from his throat like fire, his body feeling feverish and mind falling blank.

“Don’t do that,” Hajime says, pulling Tooru’s wrist away from his mouth. He tangles it with its own. Presses it back into the fabric as he leans back down. Grazes his teeth across his throbbing scent gland and murmurs. “Let them all hear. That you belong to me. That you’re mine. Let me claim you.”

Tooru sobs a nod as he feels the alpha shift inside of him, his knot pulsing at the base, pressing against his slick pussy, demanding to be let in. And despite his alpha’s decree, he glances to the side.

The stray omega is gone. Vanished, into thin air like the mists from the hot-springs up North. And they’re alone. Completely, unconditionally, irrevocably alone, Hajime’s alpha wearing thin.

His canines have dropped. His eyes blown and calculating, those of the wolf. Everything about him screams predatorial. Animal. Beast. All consuming and all encompassing. Ravenous and famished and insatiable to the core.

He snaps into Tooru’s heat once more. Brushes his cock against his sweet spot. Tenderly kisses it over and over and over again as the alpha continues to carve himself into Tooru’s very being and Tooru loves it. Loves it all. Loves him — the way Hajime’s hands tighten against his palm, fingers settling into the gaps between his fingers, the hold delicate but firm and so, so possessive.

“I love you, Hajime,” Tooru finds himself gasping as the alpha presses his lips back to his cheek. Burns a hot fiery path as they slide down the sharp edge of Tooru’s jaw. “I love you, Alpha.”

Tears are prickling at the corners of his eyes, elated and sweet, and he feels his pussy drool as the knot begins to force itself in. Pungent sticky slick seeps out from between the folds, coats the valleys of his ass before pooling beneath them both, and Hajime snarls in response, the scent intoxicating him like the taste of ambrosia.

Tooru’s stomach churns in anticipation, his mouth watering at the thought of finally belonging to his alpha. His beloved, his world.

And just as the other drags his tongue over his chin, laps up the salty remnants of an exerting chase before pulling it across his throat, Tooru feels his body seize.

Hajime’s name falls from his lips in sharp mournful cries, immediately followed by sobs for alpha, alpha, alpha, please as he creams himself dry. His hips continue to swallow Hajime up, engulf the fat knot swelling in his cunt.

He thrusts up and out against the other, desperate to draw him in further. More, more, more.

And right as he’s about to fall limp, rest his body against the dewy ground and breathe, it finally happens.

He didn’t think there could ever be an experience more pleasurable than cumming on his alpha’s tongue, and yet —

It’s like an explosion of light. Of rain and snow and sunshine and storms. Every vibrant shade in the history of color to exist, a kaleidoscope of emotions bursting before his very eyes, the visions erupting from their trove like a freshly welled spring.

He can hear the waning echo of Hajime’s howl, the sound an accompaniment to his thoughts, ringing in his ears as he’s flooded with the memory of Hajime as a newly turned wolf pup, trailing behind him, unable to regain his human form.

Of Tooru gathering the tiny alpha up in his arms. Scurrying home to show their parents — worried but also elated, his stubby fingers dragging across a furry forehead as he showers his best friend with a dozen kisses. Swoons and fawns over how cute he is. Begs his parents for permission to keep Hajime as a pet, the origins of the other completely forgotten, and his parents chuckling at the innocence of it all.

Hajime comforting him after a failed attempt at brewing a draught of life that stole the breath of the precious toad they had fished out of the well. Dragged it to the flames below. His arms are covered in long and thick burns, but his focus is pinned solely on his mate. On making sure he escaped unharmed, wiping back his tears and encouraging him to try again. Gentle assurances that he’ll sit with Tooru for however long it takes to get it right. It’ll definitely happen; he’s positive.

Hajime pressing Tooru back into the bales of hay, his eyes ravenous and scent potent, both of their hearts beating in tandem, their breaths joining as one. Clouding between their lips.

Hajime proudly morphing in and out of his wolf form at Tooru’s command, his mouth pulled back into that rare, toothy smile that reminds the omega of the sun. Radiant and blinding and powerful enough to halt an army in its tracks.

Hajime fighting to defend his honor. To take what’s his. Claws bloody, eyes ravenous, body quaking with the fury of a thousand storms.

Crisp red apples and thick juicy berries.

Scaling trees and picking flowers.

Fire and sandalwood and pine and leaves.

The cold water at the creek to dip their feet in and afternoon cherry pie at Tooru’s grandmother’s cottage.

Loud, boisterous laughter that echoes in his ears. A thousand and one beautiful memories, strewn across decades of friendship. Of love.

Hajime presenting him with his cloak. Clasping the sapphire around his throat.

His arms bulging as he weaves wool into yarn. The sound of his deep voice as he argues with his teasing siblings. Shears their best sheep for Tooru and spends nights awake by the fire.

The echo of his axe hacking a log in two. Over and over and over again, the staccato clip fading into the background as Hajime officially asks Tooru to be his mate. His palm as warm as it’d felt against Tooru’s cheek when he’d dragged the heat-plagued omega home. Wrestled wandering hands off his chest and vowed that one day, soon, he’d take Tooru and hold him and never let go. He promised.

The sweetness of his mouth. The hot graze of his lips against Tooru’s throat. His eyes reflecting mirth as he listens to his omega jabber on and on and on, an elbow balanced on his knee, a cup of coffee in his hand. Fresh cream lining his upper lip.

Hajime handing him a bouquet of flowers. At the age of seven, at the age of nine. Fourteen. Two days ago. Tucking a flower into Tooru’s hair as he makes love to him.

The disheveled baby raven that Hajime rescued from a fox. Tooru’s first familiar. The mangy black cat that eventually followed.

Tooru packing a basket full of bread. Cheese and wine and honey and grapes. Joining Hajime for his break in the forest and dividing his spoils in two. Chest hurting from stunted amusement as Hajime shoos off the members of his crew. Slaps away their roving hands when they ask for a bite of his lunch and winks at Tooru as they finally retreat.

The look of awe in his eyes as Tooru makes leaves dance in the air between them. Waves his hand and sets them ablaze, the scorched embers slowly floating down, down, down. Hajime clapping and cheering and asking him to do it again.

Both of them huddled by the fireplace in the apothecary. The moon shining on them, Tooru’s palms scabbed over and the force of Hajime’s snores fluttering the pages of his tome. His chest rising and falling and fur so soft. Tooru’s fingers dragging over his snout, admiring the regalness of his mate’s wolf form. How someone so gentle, so kind could tear another apart in the blink of an eye. Wouldn’t hesitate to do so to protect his omega.

Hajime, Hajime, Hajime.

He’s all Tooru sees; all he knows. He’s Tooru’s life, his alpha, his mate, his everything.

“Alpha!” Tooru screams as the other digs his teeth deeper into his skin. Clamps down on his throat with all of the strength in his body. Ensures that his bite will take. That it will stay.

The forest is quiet. So quiet.

All he can hear as the symphony of memories slowly lulls away is the gasp of his own breath. Sharp exhales, his chest heaving and heart beating so fast he’s afraid it might just stop.

Hajime’s hands are still twined with his, teeth embedded in his throat. He’s breathing just as hard as Tooru. Blinking over and over and over again, the flutter of his long lashes kissing the edge of Tooru’s jaw as he tries to reorient himself as well.

Slowly and surely, little by little, his jaw loosens and he starts to pull away. Tooru groans as he laps at the bloody wound, licks it firmly to accelerate the healing process.

It’ll be a few minutes before it fully seals. Before Tooru’s left with a thick imprint of Hajime’s teeth. One that will last forever.

He can’t wait.

He can feel himself starting to let go. His body relaxing with every additional drag of Hajime’s tongue, the alpha so thorough in his ministrations. In ensuring that his mate is comfortable.

Everything is so fuzzy, so warm. His tummy is full and he can’t feel his legs and he makes a pleased noise when Hajime places a final kiss against his claim. Makes a deep rumbling noise in his chest that Tooru responds to with a lazy purr of his own.

“Are you alright?” Hajime asks, as his knot deflates with a final spurt and he begins to wrap Tooru back up in his cloak. Folds the edges of fabric over his body to bestow some modesty before gathering him up in his arms.

Tooru nods sleepily. Presses a kiss to Hajime’s shoulder, his clavicle, and then a little higher up. Clumsily marks the places he’s going to give the other bites of his own when he finally regains some consciousness.

For now, however, he’s more than content with letting his alpha fuss over him. Check him over and hold him close, his wandering fingers gliding over the thick bulge in his stomach, his bloody claim, his bruised skin.

Hajime will kiss him some more once he catches his breath. Continue to take his fill of Tooru until he’s unable to do so any longer. And when he’s done, he’ll carry his exhausted body back to the bonfire where he’ll present the elders with his mate. Present them with the evidence of their bond, gushing thick and creamy between Tooru’s legs, searing hot on his neck, and give his word that he’ll cherish Tooru above anything else, treasure him for the years to come.

He’ll take his omega back to their cabin. The one Hajime built them with his own two hands. Finished a week before Tooru took his exams, confident in the other’s abilities, pouring years of sweat, tears, and joy into the very foundation, the panels and frame. The one Tooru’s family moved his belongings into just hours ago. The one Hajime promised to make a home with him in when he presented Tooru with the key.

He’ll lay Tooru gently on their bed, push him back into their plush mattress and soft linen sheets, and then, with the rest of the week off work and the mating festival just up ahead, he’ll continue loving him forever into the night. Over and over, until the end of time.